


Bone

by tommXX



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Bittersweet Ending, Dark Fantasy, Dominant Kylo Ren, Forced Marriage, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren and Rey Are Related, Magic, Multi, Old Gods, Protective Kylo Ren, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Violence, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-07-05 09:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15860853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommXX/pseuds/tommXX
Summary: All that Armitage knew of the Winter People was that they were ruthless. And now, he was about to play another pawn in his father's game - and the last words his father say to him?Make us proud. Make me proud.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't decided yet where do the events from this work take place. It's based both on my fantasy and on reality. It may not begin entirely as a soft KYLUX but I didn't plan for this work to be dark and filled with non-con elements from the beginning till the end. Thanks for reading! New chapter should come out later in September but I cannot be sure :)

**THE BOY** has no name now but he was once called Omar and was the son of Lisbeth of the White People, the folk known for the vividness of their eyes and paleness of their hair. They bring him closer, push his squirming body to the ground and his knees hit the floor. His hair is white too, almost white as snow in the winter but he wears nothing of the pride his mother once had.

Ren doesn't move until the boy screams. His mother is standing by his side, her lover on her right, followed by Ren's sister and uncle. On Ren's left side stands his betrothed, the boy no older than the one kneeling on the ground. Except his soon-to-be husband has a name and a title of his own. Armitage Hux flinches away when he sees the tears rolling down the boy's face and he falls on his knees as he grabs his father's hand.

His face is pale and his eyes wide opened. His hair is red - Ren's own folk calls those like him kissed by fire. He says something in his own language. His words are rushed, his fingers digging into the soft sleeve of his father's jacket. Brendol Hux sneers but it's Ren who hauls Armitage back up and wraps one hand around his middle to keep him close. He knows the language of Summer People but he uses it rarely. It's too soft for the lands of winter folk where people live by traditions much harsher and gods always thirsty for blood.

Ren sees as his uncle walks forward as first and is soon followed by Rey. His sister's cheeks are painted red and there's a black dot between her eyebrows, the same as the one he has on his face. It's a gift, a curse. It's the missing eye of the one-eyed god. The boy is pushed forward. He looks like a wild animal. They bind his arms by thick ropes but left his legs free and now all can Ren see of the boy is a pair of legs kicking into the air.

The morning is chilly. Ren is used to cold but when he glances down, he sees that Armitage's cheeks are flushed red from harsh wind. He is crying with dignity, not making a sound. But the tears are rolling down his cheeks and with every blow of the wind, the more of them remain frozen there. They dressed him for eyes, not for comfort and Ren presses closer against him, offering him bits of warmness. “Don't cry for him,” he says as he leans closer. “He is less than an animal in the eyes of my people.” Armitage stiffens and Ren can say he doesn't understand.

Luke nods his head and it's time. The men holding the boy down tear his clothes in shreds and push them away from his shaking body until there's nothing more than pale skin. He doesn't have the physique like the others boys in Ren's folk. He has a soft belly and touching thighs and no muscles straining under his snow white skin. The men haul him up. He looks fearfully around and his mouth opens up again. He doesn't scream this time. With another nod coming from Luke, the men step aside, one by one and leave the boy in the middle of the circle.

He turns around like a kicked dog. There are bruises forming on his forearms but otherwise, he's all cleaned up. He shivers in the harsh howling of the wind. Luke smiles at him. His eyes remain stone cold and he raises his hand up in the air, prompting the boy to step closer. Ren doesn't understand where the boy summons enough courage to listen. He wonders if it's a work of another of their gods, now impatient and hungry. Ren glances at his sister and their eyes meet above the boy's shoulder. He sees a shadow of a smile.

“Stop that,” Armitage whispers. His voice is soft and it cracks at the end of his plea. He looks at Ren and his eyes are blue and green and grey. “Please.”

Ren strokes the side of his cheek. “This is dedicated to our gods,” he explains. “The god without an eye is waiting. It's been a long winter and he is hungry.” His other hand slides down and he rests it on Armitage's hip. “My uncle finds no pleasure in doing this. And neither does my mother.” He brushes Armitage's lips and smiles when they part and Armitage bites him into the finger. The blood smears on his bottom lip and Ren chuckles. “You are a fighter,” he says with affection mirroring in his voice.

The boy makes a sound between screaming and crying when Luke touches the skin of his hip. Luke's hands travel up and down, brush the place where his ribs should be poking out but they aren't. He turns him around and by that time, the seven warriors encircle both of them and unbuckle their swords from behind their belts and one by one let them fall on the frozen ground, offering the steel of their weapons to the hungry god.

Ren meant it when he said that the boy is less than an animal in the eyes of his folk. Since the moment he was born, their priests knew he would be the one who will be sacrificed in their name. They kept him in darkness, behind the locked doors of the cell and gave him more food than any other boy. Then, on the day when their god called for them waiting, they brought him out and let him bathe in the grey sunlight.

Luke is the first one to mount him. He is quick, precise and unlike the others that follow, he doesn't make any sound. He closes his eyes when he comes and his mouth opens up in a silent scream. His thighs start to shake as he pulls out and he motions others to come closer. By the time they are finished with the boy, the seed is rolling down his naked thighs and he is grasping, leaning towards the pleasure. He keeps spreading his legs willingly, asking for more without words. He is making low broken sounds, whines and moans but he is no longer screaming.

When the last of the warriors steps away, Luke motions for Rey to come closer. The boy falls on his knees and gasps with his face turned towards the sky. His hair is glued with sweat. Rey comes and holds out a knife with a long blade, silver in the grey light. Luke takes it from her and lifts it up. He looks at the White People first. “Do you accept?” he asks and the woman who was once the boy's mother nods. Her long white hair flows around her head.

Then Luke turns towards Leia. “Do you accept?” he asks, too casually and she nods. The crown made of silver glitters atop her head. Ren is the last one who is asked to accept the sacrifice. He tightens his grasp on Armitage's hip, making sure he won't hurt him more than necessary before he nods and watches at the blade cuts through the air. Armitage freezes and it's clear he wanted to scream but that sound remains caged inside of his throat.

The boy's body falls on the ground and the blood soaks into the earth. His throat is split open and his eyes impossibly blue. The blood runs in long rivers and Ren can hear the faint sound of thunder in the distance. His hand slips into the locks of Armitage's hair and the boy shakes under his touch. His hair is red just as the blood now tainting the ground. It starts to snow and the warriors reach down for their weapons and wildly scream their thanks to the one-eyed god. He answers with another thunder and then turns quiet.

The rest of the wedding takes place in the hall made of stone. Ren is wearing dark clothes, robes made of soft cloth and belt around his hips. There's a sword buckled there and a knife hidden in his sleeve. His hair is braided with silver.

Unlike him, Armitage is all in white. His robes are made of silk and though they look beautiful, they are thin and in no time, Ren can see as the boy starts to shake. He has gold jewelry on his hands and ankles and he walks with his feet bare. The Summer People wear gold but its color is almost invisible while braided in Armitage's red hair in the color of flames.

They kneel in front of Leia. Their hands are bound together by a red rope that is cut in half later on. It's meant to be a sign of their bond, strong just like blood inside of their veins. In the final moments, Leia cuts Ren's palm open and hands him the knife to do the same to Armitage. While Armitage's blood is red, Ren's own is pitch black. They connect their palms together and their blood mixes in one. Armitage is looking down. His lips are shaking and he refuses to look at the man he is bound with. His skin is cold and it's no wonder he is shaking like a leaf. Ren throws a furry coat around him before they walk towards the tables for the feast before their marriage will be consummated.

At the top of the table sits Leia with her lover- Ren's father Han, then follows Ren and Armitage and opposite them sits Rey and Luke. Brendol Hux is sitting next to his son with his wife and daughter. Once the people start to move around and the feast pleasantly continues, he stands up and walks towards Ren.

At first, Ren sees nothing but his collected expression. Armitage doesn't have much of his father in him. Unlike his father, Armitage is slender and slim, almost painfully thin and Ren wonders if he will be able to see bones under his paper-thin skin once they find themselves in the bed. He bows his head in the sign of respect and Armitage murmurs silent greeting to his father, not looking at him.

“You were crying,” Brendol says. It's a fact and nothing more or less. Ren doesn't hear any accusation. “You begged for mercy.”

“I did father.”

Brendol then looks sharply at Ren. “He is a weak-willed boy,” he says. “His heart is too soft.” Then he laughs. “But it won't be his heart you'll want tonight.”

Armitage blushes. “He is my husband,” Ren says. “It's my duty.”

“And so it's his own.” Brendol leans closer and taps the side of his son's cheek. “I apologize. My son wasn't supposed to ask anything from you. It came to me as a surprise that you wanted the boy.” He lowers his voice. “Not many do, considering he was born as a bastard.”

Armitage freezes but Ren reacts calmly. “We don't believe in bastards in the north,” he says. “If he is able to fulfill his duty as a husband, he will be able to live within my people as one of our own.” Ren brushes Armitage's red hair with a knowing smile. “You told me he was good. We'll see tonight.” Then his hand stills. “Remember this,” he warns Brendol. “You need us. But we don't need you.”

He stands and motions for Armitage to do that as well. The music goes silent. Ren meets his sister's eyes and reads the question hiding there. Then he motions his mother it's time for the final part of their union and sees as Leia nods before she stands up as well, followed by Luke and Rey. Han's hand encircles the golden cup filled with sweet wine and he smiles at his son before he winks. Then he takes a sip and grimaces. He is not used to summer wine.

Both Ren and Armitage are led into the much bigger room. There's a bed in the middle and a table with more wine and some food. Armitage is shaking like a leaf. He clenches his hands into first and grits his teeth. Then he waits, looking around. Ren's mother is standing on the left side of the bed, with Rey and Luke next to her. The right side is for Armitage's father, Brendol and his wife who comes in with an unreadable expression on her face. Ren can say she is not Armitage's mother. There is something completely foreign in her features. Armitage's sister was not allowed to come as she is just six summers old. Ren saw her as she remained by his father's side – the small creature dressed in a green dress and long hair braided in a braid. She is her mother's daughter, both proud and breakable like a flower in the wind. She is not suited for the winters and though Ren can tell that Hux is a summer child as well, there is strength hiding in the depths of his blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” Armitage stammers when Ren starts to take off his clothes and doesn't stop until he's naked. He glances at his husband and smiles cockily at Armitage's flushed cheeks.

“Surely you know what will follow, _husband._ Someone had to tell you.” He comes closer and presses a kiss against his husband's lips before he tugs at his clothes and they part. Armitage starts to shake. His head turns from side to side and he stares at the people surrounding him.

“Why are they here? Why cannot we be alone?”

“We need a proof,” Luke explains to him calmly. “The wedding night cannot take place without the presence of witnesses. It's a tradition.” Ren sees as Armitage cringes and takes a step back but his father's voice makes him pause. Brendol is staring at him as he speaks and his eyes glow in the shadows.

“Armitage,” he says and Ren can tell they spoke of this before. Armitage grows pale and acknowledgment settles over his features. Ren can see a mixture of fear and horror. “Father,” he whispers, pleadingly. His fire falters when Brendol pushes him towards Ren with steel settling over his features and Armitage triples as he falls against Ren's broad chest and huffs once a pair of strong arms encircles him.

Armitage closes his eyes. “If you touch me-“ he hisses his promise and relaxes his grip and Ren uses that moment to pull away Armitage's clothes as well.

Armitage is slim. The bones are poking from underneath his skin and Ren can feel the hardness of his ribcage. Unlike Ren, he is not aroused though his skin flushes red at the moment Ren's eyes land on his naked form. His legs are long, hands shaking and hair messy. He licks his lips. Armitage reminds Ren kids he saw years back, poor creatures with big wide eyes and bony bodies, curled next to each other while the snow keeps falling. He touches Armitage's cheek, reminding himself that he does not know winter or the frost or the cold it brings.

“Come.” Ren pushes Armitage towards the bed and looks at him before he joins. He felts as Armitage tenses when his legs are spread by Ren's big palms and his finger encircles Armitage's hole. It's clear that the boy is untouched and Ren feels a swell of pride, knowing he will be his first and suddenly he wants to ensure he will be his last too.

Armitage closes his eyes once Ren's finger slips in and hisses. Ren knows it hurts the first time and he tries to be as gentle as possible. He lets Armitage wrap his fingers around the wrist of his free hand and starts to move his finger in and out in a slow rhythm. Ren smiles when Armitage moans for the first time. He slips in the second finger and then the third before he pulls away and spits into his palm and slick his cock. That's when Armitage starts to fight back. He kicks Ren into the abdomen and tries to move away but Ren's hands wrap around his ankles and he holds him close.

Armitage yells in rage and his fists bump against Ren's chest. “No!” he screams and tries to squirm away but Ren's hold is inescapable. Tears start to roll down his cheek and he continues his screaming. “NO! NO!”

“Shall I hold his hands?” Brendol offers, seemingly eager to leave this place as soon as possible and he leans closer but Ren shakes his head. He turns Armitage forcefully on his stomach and is quick to hold his wrists in one hand while the boy struggles underneath him. Suddenly, Armitage's body goes limp. He wails for the last time and then he remains quiet. It seems that all that rage left him suddenly.

“SHH,” Ren tells him when he leans closer. He presses his lips against Armitage's cheek. “I will not hurt you. Just close your eyes. Think of the summer.” He pauses when he feels that Armitage starts to relax but still shies away from his touch. “I've never seen summer before.” He is not lying.

“It's beautiful,” Armitage mumbles underneath him. “I miss it already.” His voice is muffled by the pillows and sheets. “Please,” he pleads again. “Please.” Ren touches the arch of his spine and his fingers dance on the pale skin. Armitage is shivering under his touch and he is impossibly cold. Ren once heard a story of a king with a heart so cold that he could put an ice on his tongue and it still wouldn't melt. For some reason, he thinks of him now as he spreads his husband's legs wider.

“It won't hurt,” he swears quietly into Armitage's ear. “You just have to let me in.” He slips inside and Armitage tenses. The penetration has to be painful for him because he lets out a quiet moan of pain and turns his head to the side. Ren kisses his back and the side of his neck in what he hopes is a soothing way before he starts to move.

It lasts for eternity and even that is not enough. Armitage stops fighting and Ren turns him on his back, hovering above him. He strokes Armitage's hair as he starts to move his hips and at some point, Armitage reaches for him and brings his face so close that their lips are almost touching. “I've never been kissed before,” he whispers like a secret, completely forgetting that they both are watched and Ren kisses him on his mouth, on his cheek, on the tip of his nose and the muzzles the side of his neck as they come together, tangled in each other's arms. Once it's done, Ren breathes out in relief and rests his head atop Armitage's chest. He kisses his skin.

Armitage's legs are still wrapped around him, desperately holding him close. One of his hands sneaks up and tangled in the mess of Ren's dark curls. He can feel as Armitage's breathing becomes even and when Ren raises his head up, he sees that his husband's eyes are closed. He brushes his hair tenderly when he feels as his mother pats him on his shoulder in a quiet congratulation.

He looks at her and offers her a smile. Leia's crown in glittering in the low light. There is something gentle about her but she carries the fire in her eyes. She walks as at first followed by Brendol and his wife. Brendol throws a last glance at the couple in the bed and frowns before he disappears and it's the last time Ren sees him alive. The next he will be hanging from the tree with a rope wrapped around his neck and his face black as coal.

Luke murmurs something to Rey and then looks at Armitage. “I know what you did,” he addresses his nephew and then leaves. Rey frowns. Her cheeks are as red as Armitage's hair and her eyes are filled with wonder. She steps closer to her brother and suddenly she reminds him a child she was before. Her small hand rests atop his chest where his heart wildly beats.

“Luke predicted that the winter is far from over,” she murmurs something he already knows. “This one will be long. Ruthless.” _Just like us._ He sees the black dot on between her eyebrows, the same as the one marking him. Their ancestors gave them a gift and a blessing. Their god's wings were black just like their blood is now. “You should have chosen another bride,” she says. “Not a child of summer.” There is something dangerous in her eyes. “I can see his bones. He will be dead before the snow melts.”

Ren brings Armitage's body closer and shields him with his own. He bares his teeth. “He is no longer a child of summer,” he says. “Not anymore.” His sister stares at him for a long time and then presses a kiss against his cheek in a warning.

“Be careful, brother,” she says when she pulls back and he catches her hand. Ren shakes his head and presses his lips into a thin line before he speaks and his voice sounds like freezing water, like snow falling from the sky. There is something wild in him.

“Rey,” he whispers and then he lets her go and watches as she runs back to their god, with her prayers and hopes and sees as the shadows close behind her. The silence washes over him and when he looks down, he sees that Armitage's eyes are half-opened. The boy grits his teeth together and moves his legs. Ren's seed drips from his hole and soaks into the sheets. There are bruises forming on his white skin and his eyes are vivid. “Please,” he whispers again and Ren cradles him into his arms, keeping him close and warming up his shaking body as they both close their eyes but neither of them sleeps.


	2. II.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY! As a very first thing, I want to thank you all for reading this story!!! I just saw the number of kudos and I almost passed out. Thank you so so MUCH!!! And also, all of your comments were so sweet. 
> 
> I am kinda nervous; I am always nervous while posting the second chapter because I feel like the first one is good and the second disappoints. I hope that's not the case this time, I really really do. It's such fun to write about my two boys and I have such big plans for both of them, hehe. 
> 
> THANK YOU again because I will never be able to thank you enough!

**KYLO REN** remembers only fragments of his dream. He wakes up to the cold morning again, feeling as his husband shifts by his side. It's still dark when he rolls from the bed and puts on his shirt and trousers. He brushes Armitage's hair, tenderly massages his scalp. His husband looks peaceful, lost somewhere in-between his dreams and the reality that will crush him once he wakes up.

His skin is surprisingly cold despite the fact he spent the night covered by furs and pressed against Ren's body. He covers him up by even more furs and blankets, as many as he can gather and lets himself to watch Armitage's face for a while. He looked young even before but now there's something completely innocent about him, something that Ren wants to protect. His knees are pressed against his chest and he is curled into himself, small in the large bed. Ren throws a last glance at him, already missing his slender body as he remembers the previous night before he steps out of the room.

The dream returns back to him once he steps outside. His eyes fall on the place where is the ground still vivid red from the blood of the sacrificed boy and he hopes it was enough to sate the hungry god for another few years. It's snowing and the grass is disappearing under the white colour and the flowers are slowly freezing. There's no one else except him but Ren doesn't feel lonely.

In his dream, he walked among the dead. He saw skulls covering the ground, empty holes in the places where eyes once had been. The one eyed god was waiting for him, with shadows dancing on the walls behind his back. Ren saws his face but now he cannot remember what he looked like. His eyes are burning with darkness but otherwise, there was nothing else. The god spoke to him in the language of his people, old and harsh as was the god himself.

When he fell silent, Ren felt as it started to rain but instead of water, blood fell on his body and soaked through the layers of his robes. He could hear a faint voice calling out his name and when he looked around, he saw that the skulls had Armitage's eyes and that they all were crying. _“Please,”_ they kept repeating as the tears froze on their faces until they cheeks covered a thick layer of ice. Ren remembers feeling afraid as he tried to reach his god, suddenly aware he was alone. The drying blood on his skin turned warm and then hot, so boiling hot that it burned his skin wherever it touched.

Ren turns around as he hears approaching steps. His father is watching him with curious eyes and as he comes closer, Ren sees that he is accompanied by Leia. Han greets him with a simple but firm pat on his shoulder but his mother's face remains blank. Her hair is falling down her back and the wind gently plays with it.

“Mother,” Ren bows his head. Leia kisses her son on both cheeks and then looks at him as if for the first time in years. Something inside of her eyes softens.

“I remember the boy you were,” she whispers. “You used to climb on the highest trees despite my warnings until you fell one day. You were crying when they brought you to me and your hand was broken. I kissed you and prayed to gods that night. You've never climbed the trees after that.” She brushes his unruly curls and sadly sighs. “That boy is gone. You let him die.”

“I did as you told me,” Ren says.

“Yes,” Leia nods. “You killed the boy and let the man inside you live. Allow your mother to grieve. Sometimes we have to make hard choices but it doesn't mean we have to like them as well.” She pauses and then assures him. “You will always be my son.”

“I know.” Then he adds: _“Blood of my blood.”_ Leia lets him go and looks at the rising sun instead. She seems nervous, scared even. Her eyes fall on her lover and she allows a small smile spread across her lips. “Luke had a dream.”

“Luke dreams all the time,” Ren says and dismisses it quickly. “Dreams come and go but that doesn't mean they are true.”

Leia hesitates. “I dreamt this night too.” Han reaches for her hand and she allows him to hold it. They almost look like they belong together. “This not the end, just the beginning. The gods are waiting for something, they see what is hidden to us. The winter is coming again and the world will be soon covered in snow.”

“Winters come and go.” Ren doesn't want to think of the shaking children, pressed against each other looking for warm. They mouths are opened and they are beginning for food. He can see bones under their skin and their black fingers, frozen on their living hands. He thinks of Armitage, curled in-between the sheets. He is a summer child indeed and he doesn't know what the winter brings.

Leia doesn't seem convinced this time. Whatever she believes she saw in her dream had to be terrifying enough to make her feel the touch of terror. “We gave them our blood,” she whispers in despair. “And they are sending us the touch of death.”

“Then offer them more blood in return.”

Leia looks at her son. “All the blood of our world won't soothe them,” she says. “They want justice now.” And Ren knows exactly what kind of justice. “The boy you chose for himself is not good for you. I told you so then and I am telling you so now.” She reaches up and grasps his hand. “You don't know how the real war looks like, you were just a boy when the Summer People attacked us and the twelve clans had to create the Coalition in order to win. Your grandfather died, your uncle lost his hand. Many good men lost their lives and when we finally struck Brendol down, I hesitated and the gods saw that. I let him live.” Leia takes a deep breath before she continues.

“I let him live. And there is no place for mercy in this world, _my son._ And now you chose that boy to be your husband and you connected your blood with his. We invited them into the land they once wanted for themselves and offered them our bread and salt and wine. We are bound to them and that bond won't be easily broken.”

Ren finds himself gritting his teeth. “The gods made me chose him,” he whispers. “The one-eyed god talked to me that night and promised me eternal summer.” He brings his hand close to his chest, forcing Leia to let him go. “He is one of us now.”

“He was not born from ice,” Leia complains like she did thousands of times before. “He is a foreigner, a stranger.”

At that Ren frowns. He looks at Han who nervously stands by Leia's side before he speaks. His voice turns icy. “My father wasn't your husband and yet it didn't change anything. It's not the blood that matters, mother.” It's not a warning but a promise. “He is not responsible for his father's sins. You once taught me that I should never blame sons for their father's decisions. Brendol Hux obtained nothing. Has nothing. And will always have nothing.”

His mother is quiet. She turns her head in the direction of the blowing wind and shifts, so the furs surrounding her shoulders slide down and bare her skin. She doesn't seem to be bothered by cold as she stares into the distance with a frown upon her lips. Han's hand lets her go as if he knew that she doesn't want his touch at that moment. He turns to his son instead.

“Come,” he prompts him. “Let your mother think in peace.” When they are far enough for her to hear them he adds: “The gods may show her that she worries over nothing.” Then he smirks knowingly and Ren follows him closely. He notices silver hair on Han's head, the proof that despite his quick legs is Han still utterly and painfully human.

“You are dying,” he says.

“I know,” Han bitterly laughs. “We all are dying, my boy.” Then he pauses. “I've never thought you'll choose someone with red hair. The kissed by fire. They are wild breed but I heard that there's nothing in this world to be compared to having a redhead impaled on your cock.” He licks his lips almost dreamingly. When he looks at his son, he is serious again. “I saw nothing of boy's father in him. However, Leia did. Those are dark times and though you don't understand it yet, I warn you – even your gods won't be able to save you once the winter truly comes.”

Ren frowns. “They've never been your gods, have they?” He isn't asking as a son. “You believe nothing my mother says and yet you stayed anyways.”

Han hums. “I love her, my son. But my love is not enough to make me stay for long – or to believe for that matter. Gods come and go and they exist only in people's minds and their hearts.” He touches the place right above Ren's heart and presses his crooked finger into the skin there. “And to their hearts, gods shall always return.”

Han reaches into his pocket and takes out a small shiny object. He presses it into his son's palm and looks at Ren with expectation mirroring inside of his eyes. Ren looks down. The silver coin is cold under his touch. He looks at it from closer.

“What is this?” Ren asks in a tone full of wonder.

“It's a gift,” Han says, almost lovingly. “I remember the man I stole it from. He claimed that the coin has a power to bring back the dead. What a fool. It didn't help him when I slid his throat open and wrenched it from between his cold fingers. I killed men for lesser than this – in those old good days. Now the world changed. You cannot see it but I can. With the growing darkness comes the glowing light.”

They return back in silence and Han says his farewell with a pat on his son's shoulder before he turns on his heel. He almost looks young again as he walks down the path, one step followed by next. Ren can almost see the boy his mother fell in love with.

Armitage is already up when he returns. He remains curled in the sheets and all Ren can see is a tip of his head. He comes closer quietly, making sure he won't make any sound to startle him. “You don't have to be afraid of me,” he says when Armitage notices him. He steps closer and the redhead says nothing. “Do you understand my language?” he asks soothingly. “I understand yours.”

At this Armitage frowns. One of his hands traces bruises Ren left on him the previous night. He seems unsure of himself as if the bed he's currently sitting on was his entire world now. “I do,” he speaks in Ren's language and though he says those words correctly, Ren can hear the difference without a doubt.  He debates with himself whether he should reach Armitage who is now sitting too far away.

“You must be hungry,” Ren decides and offers Armitage his hand. “You are just skin and bones.” Then he adds: “You cannot survive the winter if you won't eat.”

Armitage is silent as he stands up from the bed. He shies away from Ren's prying eyes and tries to cover up his nudity with his hands. Ren lets him slowly put on his clothes and frowns when he sees that Armitage warily watches him. He is wearing a shirt and trousers just like Ren though it's barely enough to keep him warm. His entire body is shaking. Ren throws a coat of furs around his shoulders and presses a quick kiss against the nape of his neck. Armitage tenses but doesn't try to push him away which Ren takes for a good sign.

They walk out together, side by side with hands barely touching. Armitage abruptly stops once he has a chance to fully take in the world he was married into. “It's snowing,” he whispers and the next time Ren looks at him, he sees snowflakes tangled in his coppery hair. Armitage looks beautiful, the only colour in the land of white. He may have the blood of Summer People, Ren notes, but there's Winter living inside of his eyes. He steps closer and in a moment of weakness allows one of his arms slide around Armitage's waist and he keeps it there.

“Tell me of your land,” he requests.

Armitage stiffens and then closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “We had flowers home – in all colors. Red, yellow, orange. And the trees were green and living and the grass was dancing in the wind. I saw as the sun rose up in the sky in the morning and watched the sunset in the evening. And the air…”

Armitage pauses and when he opens up his eyes, Ren can see tears glittering inside of them. “The air smelled different. It was warm.” Then he is quiet. Ren finds himself humming under his breath. “There's a beauty in snow too,” he says. _But also death._ Armitage huffs under his breath.

“There is,” he says. “There's a certain beauty in deadly things.” He stares at Ren for a while and his eyes change color from blue to green to grey and then they turn sad. The snow is falling on Armitage's shoulders too and soaking through his boots. His lips are blue and face pale. “I think,” he continues and reaches to brush the side of Ren's cheek, “that we all are going to die one way or another. Does it really matter if we are cold or warm when it happens?”

Ren shrugs. “Dead cannot tell us, can they?”

When they arrive to the hall, they sit down and eat. Armitage is not a picky eater as Ren discovers though he refuses to eat any kind of meat no matter how persistent Ren tries to be. Even though he has a chance to choose as much food as he wants to for himself, his plate remains half-empty despite Ren's efforts to feed him. “You eat like a bird,” comments Ren, finishing the bread with roasted fish and licks the oil covering his fingertips at which Armitage scowls.

“You are a savage,” he says but there's no real disgust in those words, just wonder. Ren shrugs as he continues licking.

“We are what we are,” he says once he's done and stands up. Armitage stares at him, still seated in his seat and holding a cup of water that warmed in his grasp. He looks like he cannot decide whether he should follow Ren's example or remain sitting. His eyes skip over the people and he presses his lips into a thin line. Ren can see a disappointment falling over his features.

“Your father, mother, and sister left before you woke up this morning,” he informs him and almost immediately is the disappointment gone. It peaks Ren's curiosity and he finds himself asking: “Will you not miss your father?”

“I won't,” Armitage confirms sourly. “He is not a man I am supposed to miss. And anyway, he wouldn't approve of that.” The smile he offers to Ren is entirely too sharp to suit his face. He is supposed to be small and fragile, wanting Ren's protection and touch. But Ren was right, there's not just summer inside of Armitage but winter as well, freezing and cold winter.

Ren sees the hesitation in Armitage's eyes before he gains enough courage to ask a question of his own. “The girl I saw last night, that brunette…” he pauses and his cheeks turn red. “Is she your family?” He is no longer looking at Ren.

“Rey,” Ren breathes out. “She is my sister.” _My other half. My twin._ “We were born together – it means a lot to my people. You have a sister of your own, don't you?” He remembers the small girl that came along with Armitage. Her hair was dark brown and her eyes sharp blue. Armitage stirs and lets a small smile form on his lips.

“Anancy,” he whispers. “She is only my half-sister though.” Before can Ren says anything he adds soothingly: “Your people might not believe in bastards but mine do and there's no honor in fathering one. It's a shame – shame my father had to carry with himself for far too long.”

Ren places his palm atop Armitage's. “You are my people now,” he reminds him. “The moment we mixed our blood, you became mine and I became yours.” There's another question in Armitage's eyes as he shyly looks at the dot between Ren's eyebrows and then quickly averts his gaze but Ren notices.

“This land is too harsh,” he says. “And so are our gods.”

Armitage cringes. “There is nothing like a merciful god. The gods I lived with my entire life – they perhaps didn't require blood but they were hungry for it. Winter is harsh, but so is summer. The days are too long and nights too short. Bad things happen during those days.”

“Have those bad things ever happened to you?” No answer comes this time and Armitage pleadingly looks at Ren in a silent warning before he stands up as well and together they walk away. Their hands brush once again but Ren makes no attempt to touch Armitage directly. This time he is willing to wait, wondering if Armitage will reach for him. A single piece memory crosses his mind, Armitage's pale skin glittering in the grim light and he feels as all of his blood travels down to the south. He shifts, suddenly feeling that his pants are too tight but Armitage doesn't seem to notice that.

He is looking around. The world is waking up from the sleep. The people who pass them remind Ren ghosts. He can barely remember their empty faces even though he's lived with them his entire life. “What does it mean?” Armitage asks suddenly. “You keep saying that the winter is coming and yet I can see snow and ice. It's already here.”

Ren laughs. “This? No, husband. This is not the winter.” Because winter is not just the snow and ice and land turning white. “The real winter starts with you not noticing it at first. You shake in your tent, in your room. It creeps towards you, settles inside of your bones and freezes your blood. Your heart skips a few beats and when you breathe out, you see your own breath. And when you move your fingers, they break because they are too frozen. And your skin turns black from the frost.” He leans closer and his lips brush the shell of Armitage's ear. It's not a kiss but it's meant to be an intimate gesture. “You know that the winter is here when you walk out and see children lying on the ground, curled into themselves, looking for the bits of warm. And their lips are blue and eyes opened forever. And when you touch them, you cannot feel anything. Just ice.”

Suddenly Armitage pushes him away. Ren stares at him in shock when he notices tears glittering inside of his eyes. “Why?” he gasps. “Why are you telling me this?” He looks around. “Are you trying to scare me? Because I am not scared. I am NOT scared!” he yells the last sentence into Ren's face and his eyes burn with a foreign fire. He is about to turn on his heel when Ren reaches for him and wraps his fingers around Armitage's pale wrist. He keeps him in place.

“I am telling you the truth,” Ren whispers with sorrow in his voice and lets Armitage go. Armitage stumbles and looks at Ren with wide eyes before he runs. Ren sees just the red color of his hair before he disappears in the distance. The more of the snow falls down. Ren opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. Snowflakes fly right into his mouth and melt there.

They taste like ashes. He closes his mouth and licks his lips. A shiver runs down his spine and Ren clenches his first. His nails manage to wound the tender skin of his palms and the drops of black blood fall down, soaking into the white snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for typos :( English is not my first language and I am afraid that it's too obvious. 
> 
> I have absolutely no idea when I'll be able to post the next chapter. I hope it will be as soon as possible.


	3. III.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for typos I strongly suspect are in the text! Thank you again, for every single comment or kudos you left on this work!!! Ahh, it's insane how many people like it. I just can't believe it.
> 
> Sorry for the smut scene btw - I am very awkward at writing smut so it lacks that "hot" element. It's more like a simple description.

**THE WIND** stopped blowing ten days ago and instead, the cold settled over their heads and is now slowly finding its way under the thick layers of their clothing. Ren spends most of the time with his sister, trying to find a way to communicate with their god and growing more and more frustrated when he realizes it's not working.

Rey stopped talking five days ago and Ren can see that she is growing desperate too. Her face is sunken and entirely too pale. She is holding his hand whenever she can, straining her already exhausted body. “I can feel the cold growing inside of me,” she says to him one day when they are curled next to each other and stare into the flames now dancing in front of their eyes. “It's like a fire but not that warm. It brings no life, just death.”

He squeezes her hand then. “I will not let it take you away from me,” he whispers into the silence and sees the shadows dancing on the stone walls of their sanctuary. He had another dream last night. Armitage was standing in the middle of the sea but the water was unable to touch his body. His clothes were wet and so was his eyes and his hair. He looked like a god at the end of the world, opening and closing his mouth as if he was preparing to eat it raw right in front of Ren's eyes.

He woke up screaming and left the room before Armitage was able to ask what happened. He looked strangely at Ren anytime he mentioned his nightmares. Ren told his sister and saw fear in Rey's eyes – the real fear, terror pulsing through her veins and through his own too.

She calls out his name and he turns to her. She is more than a sister to him – in a strange way, Rey is another half and together they are complete. “What if we deserve this?” she asks. “What if this is the price? The price for our sins?”

Ren huffs a laugh. He brushes her hair now tangled and messy. “Trust me,” he says to her. “There are no sins we need to be punished for.”

His hand slips lower and rests on her side. The cloth of her shirt slips further down and reveals a bruise on her shoulder, purple and red in the low light. He freezes before he asks, wondering. Rey remains silent but pushes him away in one swift movement when he reaches to touch it. “I can see you worry, brother of mine,” she whispers.

Ren furrows his eyebrows. “You are the blood of my blood,” he offers says as an only explanation but she already knows the truth.

Rey sits up and that movement brings him closer. “What do you think of that husband of yours?” she asks and reaches with one hand for the knife behind her belt. Her fingers are long but lean, breakable but they hold the weapon with certain confidence.

Ren shrugs. “He is a good husband,” he says at last and she laughs.

“Is he a good husband because he is good to you?” she wonders out loud. “Or because he is able to spread his legs when you command him to?” With her free hand she reaches down and taps the buckle of his belt. “There it is.”

Ren huffs and pushes her aside. “What do you know?” he growls. Rey looks at him strangely and her hand relents. She kisses him on his cheek instead as a form of apology. She looks guilty, like she did when they were children and she came to him, running away from Leia.

“Does he-“ she pauses. “Does he have a red hair down there?” she asks waiting like a child for a scolding. Then she adds: “Father says he does.”

“Han says many things,” Ren grumbles. “He knows many things.”

“He is always right,” Rey says with a devotion. She searchingly looks into his face. “Does he then?”

“As you said, _father is always right._ ” Ren looks at the knife she is still holding in her hand and remembers the day she used it for the first time. The blade is silver and very sharp and it glitters in the candlelight. She brings it closer to him but doesn't move it. Then slowly, Rey presses it against his neck holds it there. Ren finds himself thinking that it's sharp enough not to hurt him if she decided to split his throat open and he quickly dismisses this thought as chills run down his spine. Rey is his sister, she would never hurt him in any way. That's what he believes - that's what must be the truth.

She is frowning. It makes her look younger than she actually is. The bruise on her shoulder is visible now and that sight makes his blood boil but he says nothing. She laughs. “My poor brother,” she pities him for his anger. Rey looks down at the blade.

“You taught me to never cut a man's throat during his sleep. I have to look into his eyes, you said. To show him I made my decision before I will take his life forever.” He looks at her crookedly smiles, showing his teeth.

“Little sister,” he says. “Do it.”

Rey pulls away and instead cuts her palm. Black blood starts to drip out from the wound and she presses her hand against his cheek. Ren frowns but lets her to do as she pleases. Soon she pulls back and he knows there's blood on his skin. “ _Blood must answer blood,_ ” she whispers. “Remember that when you'll be fucking that whore.” There's a certain beauty in her. She is beautiful in the way deadly things are. She leans closer and her lips brush the shell of his ear. He knows she is smiling.

“Mother said this,” she says. And Ren knows she is not lying. She is good at lying but she never lies to him.

He returns to Armitage later that night, shaken to the core. His husband is soundly sleeping in their bed and even though there's no distance separating them now, Armitage is still distant. He seems hesitant around Ren, around his people as well even though he is treated with respect. Ren has still questions but he didn't have time to ask them.

He brushes Armitage's hair as he slips next to him and lays one of his hands on Armitage's hip. He is wearing a simple shirt, too big for his already skinny body and Ren finds himself more and more missing the warmth radiating from his skin. He dreams of their wedding night sometimes and those dreams leave him with his member painfully aching in the morning. Armitage is always quiet when he sees Ren's discomfort but Ren can see that he's trying to flee the room as quickly as it is humanly possible during those mornings.

Ren feels as Armitage shifts and lays on his back. He looks peaceful with his eyes closed and features blank and free of worry. There's darkness in him, a darkness Ren cannot quite place but he feels it whenever his fingertips brush Armitage's skin. He knows that his husband is awake and he gathers enough courage to press a light kiss into the crook of his neck and Armitage sighs. His eyes snap open and he look at Ren.

“You came back,” he whispers into the darkness of their shared quarters.

“I will always come back,” Ren says in all honesty. His hand slides lower and Armitage allows it for tonight but when Ren's fingers start to caress his inner thighs, he flinches away and tries to roll on the other side of the bed when Ren stops him. “I will not hurt you,” Ren says. “I promised that.”

Armitage furrows his eyebrows. “I asked you to stop,” he murmurs. He sharply jabs Ren's ribcage with his elbow and Ren hisses from the sudden pain. “I begged you. I never beg, _husband_.” There's so much hatred in that one word. Ren feels as shivers run down his spine. “I begged you and you didn't stop.”

“You know I couldn't stop that.” Armitage attempts to leave the bed but Ren holds him close. He can see the growing darkness inside of Armitage's eyes. He stops moving all together and they stare at each other in silence.

“You could,” Armitage says sharply. “Of all those people out there, you could.” Ren's palm rests on Armitage's cheek and he furrows his eyebrows and feels as fury rises inside of his chest. He wants to shake with his husband, shake him so he would see the truth.

“This is not a world for mercy,” he repeats his mother's words. “I gave you a chance for a new life, a better life. I saw you, the small boy curled into himself. Always standing in the shadow of his father, always quiet. You meant nothing to him.”

“Do I mean something to you?” Armitage asks suddenly. Ren lets him go and takes a deep breath. His limbs feel all heavy now and he can feel a dull pain inside of his guts. He blinks and the darkness around him grows much darker than before. All he can see if the coppery colour of Armitage's hair, burning just as bright as flames tend to.

“Of course you do,” he says and waves his hand up in the air. “You are my husband. We are connected by blood. And blood means everything.” Armitage remains silent after that and Ren wonders if their conversation is over. Suddenly he feels as Armitage moves forward and before he can react, he finds himself on his back with Armitage sitting on his lap.

His husband shifts and the plain shirt covering up his body rises up, revealing the smoothness of his thighs. He is bathing in the moonlight. Ren is almost afraid to touch him. He brushes his skin, presses his fingertips against his hips and hears as Armitage hisses. He tries to rock forward but Ren traps him in one place and stares into Armitage's face. The flush coloring his cheeks red is masked by the night.

“Get on with it,” Armitage commands but Ren remains stubbornly persistent. Armitage grinds and moans as his groin brushes against Ren's own and arches his back. Ren's arms settle on the small of his back and he keeps them there as he presses their bodies together so there's nothing keeping them apart. One of his hands then slides up and tangles in the red mess of Armitage's hair. He tilts his head to the side and rises to sit up.

Ren kisses his husband's neck and bites down into his shoulder. He can feel as a tension leaves Armitage's body as he starts to impatiently reach for Ren's member. Armitage strokes him once, then twice before Ren stops him and pulls away a little, making Armitage cry out in despair. “Please,” he says again but this time he's not asking Ren to stop. He reaches forward and Ren shushes him gently before he rolls them over.

Armitage stretches on the sheets. He intensively stares at Ren. “I won't ask you again,” he whispers and lets Ren spread his legs like he did during the wedding night but with no resistance. Ren prepares him quickly with one finger and then he adds another two to stretch him fully before he slips in. He groans when Armitage's hands encircle him and his husband presses a kiss against his cheek.

Halfway through, he realizes that Armitage is crying. Tears are rolling down his now soaked cheeks and he is shaking. Ren tries to pull away. He grits his teeth when Armitage doesn't let him and brings his body even closer. He can feel how cold Armitage's skin is. He looks like a ghost. “What's the matter?” he asks in a whisper against hi husband's lips and Armitage looks at him strangely before he answers. His eyes are puffy and his voice is cold.

“You don't even know, do you?” He brushes Ren's tangled hair in an almost loving manner. It's not hard to picture them both being in love but the picture shatters once Ren looks closer at his husband who is now openly sobbing.

“I don't,” he admits in shame. “But I want to make it better.”

“Then fuck me,” Armitage requests and Ren does as he says. He closes his eyes when he can no longer bare to look at Armitage's misery and snaps his hips harder, trying to finish them both. Or maybe just Armitage because it's not just about the release. He is giving his husband pleasure and he doesn't ask for anything in return.

He wants to lie down and sleep with Armitage's body underneath him. He finishes along with Armitage who tenses for a moment and then goes slack. They stare at each other in the darkness and Ren reaches to touch Armitage's lips but his husband shies away from him and nudges Ren to roll away from him. He can feel the shame radiating from the redhead as he wipes away the seed from between his legs and hides under the covers. His breathing is shallow but Ren knows he is not sleeping.

In a moment of sudden courage, he wraps his arms around Armitage's middle. His husband doesn't try to move away and  Ren takes that as a good sign when he brings the boy closer and breathes in his smell. He smells like fresh water, like trees and flowers and grass. And he smells like Ren. He can feel as heat spreads across his body. He kisses the nape of Armitage's neck and notices bruises forming on his skin. He brushes them with the tips of his fingers.

“Will you let me in?” Ren asks.

Armitage furrows his eyebrows. “I just did,” he says sourly. “There's no deeper point inside of me you can discover.” Their feet tangle under the sheets. “You know what they told me about you before I came here?”

Ren shakes his head. “No,” he says simply, prompting Armitage to continue though he already has an idea. He saw it during their wedding in Brendol Hux's eyes, in the way he smirked.

“They called you and your people brutes. My father spoke of you rarely but when he did, it was with great respect and fear. They feared you. No one of them would ever dare to cause you any harm.” He pauses. “You weren't just a skinny bastard, unwanted son of a man who desperately needed one.” His eyes sharpen under the cloak of the night. His long white fingers stroke Ren's naked chest.

“They hurt you,” Ren says as a matter-of-fact statement and comes closer. He feels a need to hold Armitage, to comfort him though he knows that his husband isn't looking for any kind of comfort. There is just anger burning deep inside of him. It's in his blood.

“Yes,” Armitage says. Then he looks Ren straight into the eye. “Would you kill them for me?” he asks playfully but Ren knows it's not just another game.

“I would,” he swears an oath. “I would slay them one by one, rip them apart and open their necks with my teeth. I would bring you their heads.” He wonders if he went too far but the adrenaline in his blood is too much. “Would you want me to?” he asks in return. It's a question for question, secret for secret.

Armitage hums under his breath. His is not a sweet virgin, he is not pure like Ren thought he was and for some reason, he likes it even better. “How many people have you killed?” he asks and instead of an answer, Armitage rolls on his back and reveals seven scars in total, breaking his skin. The silence falls over two of them.

“My people believe that every time you kill, your father has a right to make a mark. Mine decided to mark my skin.” Armitage lets Ren touch him. He relaxes his limbs and sighs when Ren's fingers start to stroke his bared skin. He seems comfortable enough for this moment but Ren can say that his husband still doesn't trust him yet.

“Seven,” Ren murmurs in awe. He's already forgotten how many people he killed.

“Hmm,” says Armitage in response. “I was six summers old, just like my sister is now, when I killed my first man. I remember there was so much blood on my hands. They say that your do remember your first kill till the day you die.”

“I don't,” Ren reacts. “I was in the battle.” He closes his eyes for a moment, reliving that day again. When he opens them, he can smell the ashes in the air. “It was my first battle, you know. If you survive the first, you're more like likely survive the second and so on. I remember just a pieces of it, bits of memory. There were ravens circling above our heads, big black ravens with crooked breaks and glittering eyes. I watched them fly as the battle went on and on for hours and hours. By the time it ended, I was all covered up in blood and my clothes were soaked. It took my days to get rid of the reek of it and yet still…” he breathes out, “it haunts me in my dreams.”

Armitage strangely looks at him. “I thought,” he says. “That you lived for war. That you were made for it.”

Ren humourlessly laughs. He sounds so bitter. He looks around the room and shifts. He spots a wine on the table and so he stands up and pours himself a cup to get rid of the sweet taste of blood inside of his mouth. The wine is bitter on the tip of his tongue and it takes him a while to answer. He almost doesn't, thinking that Armitage is asleep and there is no point to talk to no one. But then his husband rises up, covered by sheets though Ren would prefer to see him naked and shyly comes closer. Ren touches his cheek.

“I was born for this,” he says. “But I did not choose war for myself.” The silence that stretches over them is overwhelming. Armitage yawns but his eyes are not tired at all.

“We are what we are,” he says softly and it sounds like a singing of birds and dancing of the grass in the wind. His voice is a snow falling down on the ground and water turning into ice overnight. His hands hold the sheets in a tight grasp and his chuckles turn white. “What do you think of me?” Armitage asks suddenly.

Ren frowns. “What do you mean by that?” he wonders out loud.

“I am your husband,” Armitage reminds him and it almost sounds like he doesn't care but Ren knows he does. “I've always known I will be sold out by my father. And I kept telling myself that it doesn't matter.” He looks curiously at Ren. “But it does, doesn't it?”

Ren taps his chin twice. “I think,” he says slowly, considering his words and then switches into Armitage's mother tongue. He sees shock in his husband's eyes. “I think there is a chance for us. For me and you.” Armitage gratefully smiles at him and Ren feels as something inside of his chest tightens. He licks his lips and kisses Armitage on his lips but the kiss is far from those desperate kisses they've exchanged before. This one is almost lazy. Just a press of their lips and Ren finds it strangely comforting. They part from each other too soon.

“I want to believe that,” Armitage murmurs. His hair is a mess. “I sometimes wonder if you can forgive me,” he whispers then.

Ren shifts. “Forgive you what?” He reaches for Armitage but his husband escapes him easily and slides back under the covers.

“You'll find out one day,” Armitage says gravely. “And you will not forgive me.” He curls into himself and presses his knees against his chest. He refuses to look at his husband.

Ren makes a decision then. “I am forgiving you now then,” he swears. But Armitage is no longer looking. Ren feels a great swallow of pity. He crosses the distance between two of them and brushes Armitage's hair. “No matter what,” he whispers into the dead of the night and his mind blindly searches for his god to get an answer, a sign. “You are forgiven. Remember that.”

He falls into an uneasy sleep that night. His god finally speaks to him after the days of silence. Ren can see lightning and hear thunder and the rain is turning into snow. He is holding his sword and his hands are red and bloody. He sees Armitage who is kneeling in front of him on the ground and tears are rolling down his cheeks. His body is naked and curled, Ren can see the seed on his white milky thighs. He looks like a child.

Ren roars in anger and rises his sword in the air. Armitage screams and then the sword comes down while his god keeps chanting. _You betrayed us. You betrayed us for a stranger._ He stares at the body of his husband on the ground and he feels nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Ren wakes up with an echo of his scream and it takes him a moment to fully understand he is back in his bed in his room. He glances to the side and is surprised to see Rey, now out of her breath and his mouth opens. “I heard him,” he says, too excited. “He talked to me.”

Only then he notices that Rey is ghostly pale. He turns his head to see if Armitage is alright and to his surprise, he finds out that the bed is empty. “Where-?“

Rey grabs his hand. “Brother,” she says and Ren suddenly fears that the dream was real. He glances down at his hands but sees no blood.

“It seems he wasn't that stupid at all,” Rey whispers suddenly. “You picked a pretty little flower, didn't you? With those big eyes. I bet he was willing at first."

Ren stares at her. "Rey," he murmurs but there's no way to stop her now.

"He is gone," she adds at last and looks relieved. "He ran away last night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking I will write the next chapter in Armitage's POV because there are two sides to this story - plus I am tagging a new pair which wasn't quite my intention but somehow it happened :) so the next chapter will be more focused on what happened after Armitage ran away and why he made that decision in the first place...
> 
> I am still unsure of what kind of a relationship I want to have between Rey and Kylo because they are not a just regular type of siblings but I don't know if I am willing to cross the line yet and make something more of them. So, for now, their relationship is somewhere in the middle of healthy and strange? I guess. 
> 
> I am not sure when I'll write the next chapter, haha. I hope it will be soon :)


	4. IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! As a first thing, I want to say a big thank you for finding time to read this story! 
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than those previous three and it's said from Armitage's POV, which was so so HARD to write, really! It's really easier to keep telling a story about a person, not make her the storyteller. Anyways, I think there was needed an insight from Armitage's side. Thank you all for reading! I means so fucking much!!!

**THERE'S** bloodbehind his nails and his legs hurt. When he looks down, he can see deep scratches and bruises covering his skin and dirt and snow on his clothes. His hair is wild now, falling down on his shoulders. He knows he is an easy target – if Ren won't find him, then the wolves surely will.

Armitage stops moving suddenly and falls down on his knees. The snow soaks through the layers of his trousers. He was once told that if he stops running, he will never be able to stand up. “If you live, if you survive, it's all up to you,” he has to remind himself and lets out a cry of desperation. Hot tears roll down his cheeks in long rivers.

He is hungry and scared. The sun is already down and soon the night will fall. He can see the first stars appearing on the reddish sky. Armitage feels the swell of desperation. Even gods know that lone traveler will die when the snow comes. Armitage curls into himself and brings his knees towards his chest. He can't remember what a warm bed feels like. His stomach grumbles again and he curls his hand into a fist before he hits his stomach once, then twice and then for the last third time. The pain is calmingly white and empty.

Armitage blinks. He looks around. He thinks of flowers – red, yellow and blue. He sees his sister in them, dancing in the meadow. “Armitage,” she keeps calling him by his name and stops dancing. Instead, she starts running towards him and her blue eyes are sad. Tears are rolling down her face. And just like in the rest of his dreams, she disappears before he has a chance to touch her. Her small body turns into the air, the sound of her voice remains ringing in his ears. The flowers keep chanting though. They sing. “Armitage, Armitage.” He wishes they all were dead. And that he was dead too.

He can see his own breath. Armitage rolls on his back and stares up. He sees no stars and wonders if he will be alive long enough to see them. The snow is falling down, covering up his coat and trousers and boots. Armitage's whole body is trembling. He remembers the summer and the grass under his fingertips. The day he was told he was going to be married was raining.

He was braiding his sister's hair. Anancy was singing and playing with her dolls. They all had names and she told him all of them but Armitage forgot. He lets out a cry of rage. There is nothing in this land, no mercy, no long summer days and the warm is just a dream and the flowers and trees and the people are dead. Armitage prays to his god, the only one he knows and begs him to show any kind of mercy. There is nothing in this land, only Ren's cruel gods – the ones that require so much blood. He remembers the boy Ren called nothing more than an animal and the blood that soaked into the ground.

Anancy stopped singing abruptly when Brendol walked into the room. He was silent, he didn't say a word. There was a frown on his face. A grimace settling upon his features. He moved his hand, snapped his fingers and Anancy stood up without a word. She looked at her brother with fear and he gave her back her dolls and pushed her in the direction of the doors.

“Armitage?” she sobbed and her bottom lip was trembling.

“Go,” Armitage commanded then, feeling as the seeds of fear started to grow within him. The doors were soon closed and the father grasped his son's chin in-between his fingers. He looked down.

“You would be beautiful if you were a girl,” Brendol said. “You are soft. Thin. Just a flesh and bone and your skin is paper white. You are not a warrior.”

“No, father.”

“But you are not a messiah either. Or a martyr.”

“No, father.”

Brendol's hand slipped down and pressed against Armitage's stomach. “I know who you really are, boy. I see that darkness inside of you. If my people saw that too, you would be long dead.”

Hux furrowed his eyebrows at this revelation. He felt as shivers ran down his spine but his father's touch was gone before he could protest. Brendol took a step back and for a moment Armitage saw a splinter of himself in his father – his fiery red hair, features set in stone. His clothes felt heavier then. His heart sank down.

“I do not understand,” he said. His father motioned him to sit down, probably believing that it was needed. He poured himself wine – taking a deep sip before he joined his son. His eyes were sharp. Armitage feared him when he was like this. His father wasn't a soft man and violence was not unknown to him. When he spoke, he spoke coldly, distantly.

“I found a husband for you, young, suitable and powerful.” His eyes were glittering and he drank more wine. It never managed to numb his senses. Then, as if he finally noticed the expression crossing his son's face, he sourly added: “You were born for this.”

“I was born to lead,” Armitage dared to say and flinched when his father's hand collided with his cheek. He felt stinging of tears inside of his eyes. He bit his tongue and felt as blood filled his mouth. It tasted just as sweet as the wine his father was drinking and Armitage swallowed it down. It traveled slowly into his stomach and made his insides turn upside down before they settled back in peace. Armitage clenched his fists and touched the side of his cheek, feeling for the bruise that was already forming.

“You were born to serve,” Brendol hissed, just as hatefully as ever. He was a small man, a small man with dreams of times that were long gone. In that moment of sheer desperation, Armitage imagined him dying. He imagined red blood spilling out of his veins and covering the marble floors, his clothes being torn apart and his flesh being separated from his bones. “You are not my heir. You live only because I am merciful. Otherwise, you would be whoring yourself out. Does it even matter who is in-between your legs? You are to obey to me. That is your duty. And trust me in this, I will keep your legs spread if I have to.”

Armitage gritted his teeth. “As you wish, father,” he said, voice dark and lips bloody. He shakily stood up. “May I go then?” He eyed the dagger behind his father's belt. It had a long, pointed blade that was sharp enough to hurt. He imagined it cutting through Brendol's fresh. The blood was everywhere now, swimming in front of his eyes. “My god is waiting.”

He didn't get any response from his father and he didn't wait for any. He rushed out of the door and once they closed behind him, he saw his step-mother standing in the middle of the corridor. She looked like a goddess, forgotten and unloved and yet not gone. “He told you then,” she said as she came closer and her touch was cold. She tapped the side of his cheek, feeling for the bruise like he did only a moments ago and then stepped back. She looked at him with dismay.

“A mother mourns her leaving children.”

“You are not my mother.”

Maratelle gritted her teeth so forcefully that it had to hurt. “I am not,” she said. “Do you know what they say about you? They say that your mother was a sea nymph, wild, free-spirited and too naïve. And like all nymphs, she was beautiful, not beautiful in the way mortal women are. She was water and wrath and death that awaits for the sailors on the sea, the wind that destroys their ships. She was the mother who gave up her child because she could not bear to look into her son's eyes. Brendol was like you once. Full of fire and vigor. He thought he could conquer the world.” She leaned closer and whispered directly into his ear. “Men rage wars – women win them.” Her left hand shot up and her fingers dug into his forearm. “You father tore away your mother's clothes. The blood was so red on her thighs and it was mixing with the sea. He tosses her away and she did not forget.” Maratelle stepped back, letting him go suddenly. “She brought you here, you know. You fell sick the second year, the medics told us there was nothing to do, just wait. I prayed to gods, to my god and yours. Let him live, I begged. Let him live. I will be a mother to him.” She closed her eyes in grief. “I could never love you. And then I got my Anancy and I was happy for a while – but even our god is a merciless creature. That beast came for me.” Armitage watched her for a moment longer.

“Sometimes I think that all the bad things that happened to us since then are just another of my punishments because I could not love a motherless child.” Hux stiffened when she tapped his lips until they parted. It was such an odd gesture, too intimate. Maratelle looked at him strangely again. “I prayed to the god once, I won't pray again.”

She let him leave in hurry then. Hux ran through the corridors of his home, feeling the burn inside of his lungs. He didn't stop running until he reached gardens and when he found himself alone, surrounded by blind flowers and deaf trees, he fell on his knees and roared in grief. The tears were already rolling down his cheek and the ache within him was growing. He lost his voice after hours and hours of screaming and instead of moving he remained in one position – kneeling on his knees with his head bowed down and hands clasped together as if he was praying. The day went and the night came just as quickly. Armitage lost the track of time and the next time he blinked, he saw stars hovering on the night sky and the moon laughing at him.

His hand shakily touched the ground. The darkness fell upon him and soon only the fiery color of his hair could be seen. His tears were long gone and his lips were bloody, just as red as his hair. The cloth of his robes covered him like a blanket. Only the skin of his wrists and long fingers could be seen. The servants who spotted him that night shushed in the darkness about Brendol's son growing mad. They pitied him even, sang songs of him and his beautiful mother - may their god let her rest in peace.

On the seventh day, the last day of Long Summer, Armitage was shipped to his husband, dressed in silver and gold.

He remembers it clearly now, as he lies half-frozen in the snow and dreams of all the fire of the world to warm up his ice-cold skin. He cannot feel his fingers or his body. The only thing he is aware of is snow, heavy and cold. Armitage finds himself wondering if he made a right choice to leave. He would be dead either way, he was being prepared for this all along. His father told him of the Winter People's customs, he himself saw the proof of their cruelty and their dedication to their gods. And yet he does not think of the violence or of vengeful gods or of blood. As he lies, dying, Armitage thinks of a pair of eyes, dark and almost black.

Ren's touch awakens him a little. For now, he's been suffocating but suddenly he can finally breathe. He hates that man just as much as he fears him. However, despite that, he cannot stop remembering their wedding night and the soft smile that appeared on Ren's face as he took Armitage as his own. _I begged him to stop,_ Armitage thinks. _And then I silently begged him for more._

He feels selfish. With his mouth barely moving, he quickly prays to his god, wondering if he will be able to help. This land belongs to someone else and yet he sees no difference when it comes to gods. The old ones or those new, they all are the same. A mercy is the last thing they can offer to you. And blood is the only thing you can offer to them.

Armitage reaches into the pocket of his fur coat and his fingers wrap around the dagger he keeps hidden there. He takes it out and brings the blade close to his throat. It's so sharp that it wouldn't even hurt if he moved it fast enough. The first thing he imagines is blood, the second his lifeless body left in the snow. Maybe by the time Ren finds him, the animals will make sure there won't be much left. He shivers when the blade touches his skin and hisses once it cuts him. The cut is not deep enough to kill him but deep enough to bleed.

After a moment of consideration, he pulls it away and stares at his mirroring reflection. His eyes are red-rimmed. “This is it,” he says out loud and raises his head up towards the starry sky. “I did what you wanted me to do! And there is nothing left for me waiting – just death.” _I am dead man anyway, so why not die right here and right now. While there's still something of me left._

He fears to imagine what Ren would do to him if he ever found him. Armitage tenses anytime he hears a sound. If Ren ever comes, he wants to be a corpse, dead and forgotten. Maybe his skin will turn black and his hair and eyes will fall out. Maybe he won't be anything more than a bare skull, white against the snow. He turns his head to the side the next time he hears another sound. This time it's not just his fantasy and once he realizes it, he tries to stand up.

Armitage hisses when he realizes that his legs are too weak for walking. He starts to crawl and hears a faint sound of a voice. The dagger is still in his hand. At one point he stops and brings the dagger towards his chest. Two figure emerge from between the trees. The travelers are both wearing dark heavy coats and hood over their faces. Armitage closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. “Look!” one of the travelers says and Armitage stiffens. “Hey!”

He raises the dagger in the air. Someone grabs him by his foot and pulls him down. The dagger doesn't hit the center of his chest as he wanted it to but dugs into his side. He screams and the dagger falls out of his grasp. One of the figures pulls down the hood. He is met with a pair of blue eyes. The woman is taller than him and much bulkier. She presses her gloved palm against his wound and looks at him worriedly.

“May the gods be merciful on you, you sweet summer child.”

“How-“ Armitage furrows his eyebrows.

“You smell like summer.” The second figure reveals to him. The man has a cocky smile but there's something honest inside of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from cold. “And you planned to die like one of the Summer People. Without honor, deep in the snow.”

Armitage can feel his blood soaking through the layers of his clothes and leaving his body. “So what?” he smiles with a bloody smile. “I am dead anyway.” The man frowns and shares a look with his partner before he notices the pond of blood forming under Armitage's body.

“He sent you, didn't he?” Armitage rasps out. “If he didn't, then my father surely did.” He laughs sourly then. “Are you here to finish me off.” It's a challenge but it doesn't sound like it. Armitage tries to push the woman's hand away. She resists and after a few while he cannot fight her anymore. He surrenders. He believes there's another world waiting for them. He heard those stories as a child – halls made of gold and silver. Statues of gods standing in the halls. He thinks of his own god but doesn't say his name. No one ever calls him by his name. He wonders if his god can hear his cries. If he will come for him, to this strange land covered in ice and snow. There is nothing but death here. It's cold and yet friendly.

Armitage grows pale. He stops moving altogether. He feels at the woman shakes with his body but he doesn't react anymore. “Poe,” the woman says. Armitage hears her voice only faintly. “He is dying.”

“Indeed I am,” Armitage says. That's the last thing he says.


	5. V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for such a late update :/ To be honest, I don't like this chapter but I know that I won't be able to write anything better. Hopefully, the next one will be much much better than this one. Still, thank you all for reading! I'll try more next time, I promise.

They gave him meat to sate his hunger and water to take away the soreness of his throat. In the cold morning, the water slowly filled him from inside and left him shaking from cold. The coat he managed to steal was now covered by thick layer of snow and frost – and Armitage knew that the snow managed to hide the natural redness of his hair. He looked like an old man with a face of a child.

His companions didn't trust him that much he could say. The woman spoke to him only rarely but her eyes followed him wherever he went. They were blue, colder than his own. She was one of the Winter People and she called herself Phasma. Despite her wariness, she didn't seem to mind if he was alive or not. “Meat is meat,” she heard her speaking to the male one night. “If he dies, we won't starve for a day or so.” Then she paused. “He is just skin and bones – there's not much of him.”

Poe was wary too. He kept his silence. He tied a rope around Armitage's wrist after he recovered and made sure to take all of his weapons. He wasn't a cruel man – but he wasn't good either. At times had Armitage feeling that Poe was watching him and waiting for something. He spoke to him only once, asking a question in a rough tongue Armitage could not understand. It sounded almost similar to Ren's own.

 “Eat him,” the woman says the morning Armitage lays curled in the furs, heavily breathing. Shivers run down his spine. When he moves his hand, the rope digs deeper into his skin. He has bruises there, deep black now and different from those Ren gave him. These were made of pain and suffering. He hears steps and Poe hums under his breath. Time by time he sings an old song of the woodS. The woman is quiet but only for a moment. She loses her patience quickly.

“He is still alive,” she grumbles. “We don't need any other empty mouth to feed. Not in times like this.” Armitage doesn't see her face but he knows she's frowning now.

Poe sighs. “No,” he says. “The boy will live.”

“Fuck him then.” The challenge sends shivers running down Armitage's spine. His heart skips a beat. “I know you want to.”

“I will,” Poe says. “Not now.”

Armitage hears him moving. Phasma calls out his name. “Take him,” she commands and Armitage can hear her approaching steps. Suddenly, he is lifted up in the air by the pair of strong arms. He screams and tries to kick her with his legs but she is much stronger than he is. He gasps for air and sees Poe now watching him with dark interest. He approaches them but doesn't make a sound. His gloved hand touches the side of Armitage's face.

“I know who you are,” Poe says at last. Armitage stiffens. His breath quickens. He roars and uses all the strength he can gather to escape Phasma's grasp. He falls into the snow. It soaks into the layers of his clothes and he feels as chills run down his spine. He glares at Phasma first, promising himself that he will take her life as a price for this humiliation. Then he notices the smirk that crosses Poe's lips.

“What else can you expect from a Summer Prince?” Armitage's cheeks flush red in anger. He feels familiar stinging of tears in the corners of his eyes. He swears then, in front of his god that he will kill them both one day. He cannot now though. He is a stranger in a foreign land, where the wind that blows is cold and summers are no longer a bedtime story. He spits out the snow and among it fall on the ground drops of blood.

“Get up,” Poe says but this time it doesn't sound cruel at all. His brown eyes stop at Armitage's face and he turns on his heel. “We need to leave soon if you don't want your husband to find you.” Armitage quietly complies and pulls himself up all over again. His legs dig deeper into the layer of a snow. Phasma clasps him on his back.

“You've survived us yet,” she murmurs under her breath, addressed more to herself than to him and follows Poe's path, leaving Armitage a choice to follow them as well or stay here and die. He grits his teeth - it's something he's learned during the years of living with his father and starts walking, trying to ignore the ache inside of his muscles. They walk for hours then, in complete silence. The day passes and they never stop. Poe keeps looking behind his shoulder as if he was afraid that someone is following them. Armitage can see nothing, just their shadows trailing behind them.

It's Phasma who breaks the silence around the evening when the sky turns dark once again and they stop moving for a moment. Her voice sounds like a thunder and her eyes are narrowed. “We've been walking the whole day,” she says to Poe. “We need rest.”

Poe grits his teeth in annoyance. “We are moving too slowly. Rest can wait.” Armitage wishes for him to change his opinion. He is beyond exhausted.

“The boy is barely breathing,” Phasma growls now and looks at the Armitage. “You took him – now he's your responsibility. If you wanted him dead, you should have left him to die then.” They both see Armitage's shaking form and blue lips. He looks like a doll. His whole posture is lifeless.

Poe furrows his eyebrows but agrees. That evening, there is not fire either. “Why is that?” Armitage asks, curled in the furs and his eyes flicker towards Poe. The man is quiet for a long time. Armitage almost gets an impression that he won't say anything at all.

“The forest has eyes and ears everywhere.” Armitage feels as shivers run down his spine. He looks around but sees nothing, just shadows of the trees and endless white snow. Poe bitterly laughs. “There are gods out there, bad gods. Their touch is cold like an ice but their eyes are burning. They never bleed and never die.”

“Gods are not meant to die.”

Poe shakes his head slowly and again looks at the forest. “They are,” he said. “Not all of them are immortal, you know. Not all of our gods are just like yours.” He pauses. “Have your husband ever told you about One-eyed god?”

“No,” Armitage admits. Ren's never spoke of his own gods and Armitage didn't ask. But now Poe piques his curiosity. He remembers the black dot someone drew on both Rey and Ren's foreheads and he briefly touches his own, thinking. He remembers the boy who died like an animal, in front of his own mother's eyes and the emptiness of Ren's voice.

Poe hums under his breath. “I expected that,” he admits. “You are not afraid him. But you should be.”

“I know what he's done.”

“You have no idea what he's done,” Poe growls. “His bloodline is cursed, my dear summer prince. They brought to this world and death and suffering. Once a god chooses you for your own, there's no stepping back.”

“How?”

“There were three brothers in the beginning. Every child in these lands knows their story. It happened long before your father decided to conquer and was defeated and long before you came here to become one of us. They were brothers by blood and their story ended in death. One brother desired war, one sacrificed himself for his family and one turned on his kin.” Poe comes closer and kneels next to Armitage. “You remind me someone, someone I used to know a long time ago. Someone Ren took away from me.” He taps Armitage's cheek, deep in thought. “He left a hole in my heart and the blood of the entire world won't be enough to sate me.”

“I am sorry.”

“Are you really sorry?”

Armitage gulps. “I lost someone dear to me too.” He licks his lips and feels the familiar sting of tears in the corners of his eyes. “But I don't want blood to sate my grief. People are and then they are not. I won't make the world suffer because I can't move on.”

“You are pure as a lily,” Poe murmurs. “And yet I don't believe it. There is darkness inside of you.” He grabs Armitage's chin and brings his face closer. “And in that darkness eyes staring back at me. So many eyes, so many colors. Your husband can't even begin to comprehend what you really are and what you're capable of. A destroyer of worlds.”

Armitage laughs. “It's just another ghost-story.” He frees himself from Poe's touch.

“They were not ghost-stories in the beginning,” Poe complains quietly. “What happens to people after they die? They become ghosts. Now, tell me why are you really here?”

“I ran.”

“That's not a reason, it's an action.” The wind quietly blows between the trees. “Why did you come here? What made you want to die?”

“I don't want to die,” Armitage admits.

Poe presses his hand against the wound on Armitage's side. “I wouldn't say so.” Armitage hisses when the pain becomes too much. He pulls away too quickly and knows that the bandages are again soaked in blood. He glares at Poe but the older man doesn't say an apology for his actions. “What is it? Tell me.” It sounds more like a command.

“I dreamt of him,” Armitage suddenly yells. “I dreamt of him and the snow and the blood falling from the sky. I dreamt of war and corpses and skulls one on another. I looked down and my hands were all red, covered in blood and gods were screaming my name – they were calling me out. And in the middle of that chaos and suffering, of that pain and darkness, I saw Ren. His eyes were yellow and shinning and when he opened his mouth, black blood started to drip out. His sister was standing behind him and she held my father's head in her hands. She was smiling. She was laughing at me. And I knew they were coming.”

“Your father is a monster,” Poe says quietly. “He deserves to die. I know what he did to you.”

“You don't,” Armitage hisses. “You have no idea what he did to me, or to my mother or my sister. I made my choice to come here, to this strange land and be a husband to a monster. I made that choice from my own free will.”

“So you know Ren's a monster,” Poe grins. “Now, tell me, little prince. Why did you choose to leave him? Have you not heard those stories? If you try to run away from a monster, it will come for you one day. It was just a dream – we all dream of blood sometimes.”

“You don't understand. It was not just a dream. It felt real. Everything was real.” Armitage wraps his slim fingers around Poe's wrist. “Only one can live.”

“He is our god's favorite,” Poe sadly says. “He will find you, today or maybe next week. But in the end, he will always find you. He will never stop looking for you.” He whispers then. “You belong to him already.”

Armitage forcefully shakes his head. “No!” he yells. “I belong to no one.” But he already knows the truth. A lonely tear rolls down his cheek. “Blood must answer blood."

Poe shakes his head. “I think you know it's already too late. The winter is close, my sweet prince. And the monsters are awaking. Your husband is speaking to our god. It's not a game or some stupid superstition. Our god is real. The blood inside of his veins is real. He is the key that binds two worlds together. How can you escape if he can find you even in the land of the dead?”

“I can't,” Armitage grows pale. “Can I?”

And it suddenly comes all back to him. He goes to sleep in the same way as he did yesterday and the day before except this time, he dreams. His dreams are usually dark, filled the blood and shadows, with gods reaching for him from every side of the room. This time, he sees a woman dressed in the white dress that falls around her body like a waterfall. She has bright eyes but a sad smile, too harsh to suit her child-like face.

She reaches for him, beckons him to come closer and when he does, she wraps her fingers around his wrist and keeps him pinned in place. She has long hair, dark and curly. She reminds him of Rey except there is nothing cold in her eyes.

“Kiss me,” she commands him and he does. She tastes like ashes and smoke and yet it's the sweetest thing he's ever tasted. He kisses her like a starving man and his hands wander down, wrap around her slender hips. She lets him take the lead but they both know that he is powerless. After a moment she pulls away and buries her long white fingers in his red hair and brushes them in harsh long strokes. “The prince of summer,” she sighs. “Armitage. Armitage. Armitage.”

Then she starts to speak in the language of his people and it sounds like a singing. She is smiling the whole time, peppering his cheeks and nose with kisses. “They hurt you,” she says when she pulls back and pushes him towards the ground until he's kneeling. She spreads her legs wider and let him press his face against her stomach. Armitage's never done this with a girl, has never feel interested in female bodies but there is something different about this woman. He feels drunk and dizzy. “I would've never done anything like that to you.”

“Who are you?” he whispers and whines. “And what have you done to me?”

“Don't you recognize me?” she asks and looks impossibly sad. Then she kneels down too and gathers his shaking form in her arms. “My poor summer child,” she chides him. “What do you know about the winter?” And suddenly the snow starts to fall. She smiles at him one last time and then the dream ends.

He wakes up suddenly, gasping for air. Poe is hovering above him and he can hear Phasma's loud swearing. They both are already up, ready for the journey. It takes him a moment to fully see the change in the air. Poe's face is pale and he is holding a knife in his hand. His arm wraps around Armitage's middle and he hauls him up.

“What are you doing?” Armitage gasps. His boots dig into the snow and he shakes in the chilly morning air. Poe looks at Phasma and the tall woman just waves her hand. Then she points her fingers at the forest and her lips press into a thin line.

“That's madness!” Poe yells at her.

She shrugs. “Staying here is pure madness,” she says in an answer and looks at Armitage. “Take the boy and run,” she commands him. Armitage is about to ask what is happening when he hears a shouting coming from the distance. He presses closer against Poe's broad chest and gasps for air. Then they start moving towards the growing shadows of the forest. Phasma is walking closely behind them, now and then peeking over her shoulder as if she was afraid of something.

“How many?” Poe asks when they are curled in the safety of the shadows and lets out a shaky breathe. He holds his knife close to Armitage's throat – knowingly or not, that Armitage doesn't know.

“Five,” Phasma says and then turns quiet. Armitage sees them as they come, fiver figures riding horses. They all are wearing dark woolly clothes and masks covering their faces. Their hands are red from blood. One of the riders jumps on the ground and looks around. Armitage freezes and suddenly starts to pray to all gods he knows to keep them safe. The rider kneels down and digs his hand into the snow. Then he sniffs the air and turns to the others. When he speaks, he speaks in a rough language Armitage recognizes as the language of Ren's people.

“They were here,” the riders says as he walks towards his horse. “Tell that to the Commander. He must know.”

They disappear just as quickly as they came but Armitage can't relax. “They were Ren's men,” he whispers and Poe finally lets him go. “I heard them. I recognized them.”

“It can mean nothing,” Phasma hums under her nose. “It can mean everything. Either way, we are safe for now, thank gods for that.” She looks seriously at Poe before she continues. “If it's true and they are looking for the boy…” she pauses. “They will want out heads as well.”

“I know that,” Poe growls. “But what can I do? He is helpless. If I left him here, the wolves would find him first.” Then he starts to swear. “Don't you understand? It doesn't matter if we let him go now. Either way, you and me will both end up without our heads. Or even worse.”

“I am sorry,” Armitage mumbles. “I didn't mean for anyone to die for me.”

Poe grins and bares his teeth like a feral dog. “And look at that. Many will die for you, boy – not because of what you do but because of who you are. You had one job. To keep your legs spread and Ren's cock sated.”

“You could leave me to die.”

“And what difference would it make?” Poe roars. “Ren wants you. Not me.” He points at Phasma. “Not her.”

“Well, I don't want him.”

“Now you're talking like a brat you are.” Poe crosses the distance separating them and grabs Armitage by his arm. “Maybe you need a little discipline.” And then he slaps him. Armitage gasps. His cheek stings and he feels humiliated. On the other hand, Poe seems to be satisfied with himself. He observes Armitage's cheek with great interest. “Someone ought to do that sooner.” Then he leans closer and whispers directly into Armitage's ear: “When Ren finds you, tell him to keep you on a leash in the future. A whore who doesn't know their place is a dangerous little thing.”

“I am not a whore,” Armitage angrily whispers.

Poe smirks. “You were born for this,” he says. “You were born to be fucked. We all have our own place in this.” Poe shrugs. “Some were meant to rule, some to obey. People are dying because of you."

“People die every day,” Armitage says and his voice turns cold. “My actions won't make any difference. I chose myself. Not you, not your gods. I didn't leave because I had no choice. I left because that was my choice.” He pauses. “You are like winter, you know. Deadly. Dangerous. Always hungry for fresh blood. And your gods are just the same. I don't intend to be part of that.”

Poe barks in a laugher. “And what about your god?” he asks. “What about your land and your people? You are not all as pure as lilies. There is darkness in all of you. Tell me, little summer prince, tell me the truth. Your father didn't send you here to keep the peace, no.”

“You have no idea who my god is,” Armitage whispers and fiery hair falls into his face. “But if you knew, you would be shaking in fear.”

“I know,” Poe says. “We pay our gods in the blood of few. You pay your own with the blood of the entire nations.”


	6. VI.

It takes Ren two months to find them.

Armitage wakes up to the dark morning. The days are shorter now – and the nights are impossibly long. Phasma is staring into the flames of the fire she built. In the low light is her face pale and white like milk. She doesn't look at him when he comes closer, only holds up a cup filled with melted snow and offers it to him. Poe is quietly snoring. Maybe he's awake – Armitage still cannot tell when's pretending and when he's not.

“We should cut your hair,” Phasma tells him. “It's getting long.” He doesn't bother to answer but he thinks of it. He keeps his hair hidden now. The red color is uncommon and most people connect it with the runaway bride of Kylo Ren and neither of them wants to help strangers that could be carrying something that doesn't belong to them. Poe taught him how to speak their language. Armitage no longer remembers what it felt like to bath in the sunlight or speak in the language of his people, of his mother and father. He can barely remember his little sister but he prays for her.

“Soon you'll look like a girl,” Phasma continues. “You are already slender enough, a bit tall too. But you have a soft face and nice lips. We could pretend you're my sister. Or his, for that matter. We could keep you hidden forever.” That's what he's become. A shadow – a man without a name or a title. There is no past or future for him. All he's been left with is his god – that terrifying god who talks to him in his dreams and shows him a world he wishes to be dead.

Only last night, he dreamt of the snow again. It was cold in his dream – so cold that his lips turned blue and fingers black. He could not move or speak. Armitage could only stare at the unmoving corpses under his feet – first Phasma and then Poe and then the rest of the world. Their eyes were crawled out, their lips were black and inside their mouths were no teeth. And then they started moving. They reached for him with the long black fingers while they whispered his name. Soon, he was being smothered by the weight of their bodies.

He woke up suddenly, even before Phasma did. His mouth was opened in a silent scream. He couldn't remember the last time he slept in peace. Maybe this was the price for what he's done – price for his sins. Armitage spent the rest of the night watching the stars. He wanted to reach them. It almost felt like they were calling for him. He saw the constellation of One-eyed god and remembered the story Poe told him once.

At first, there was a young man. His mother was a water nymph who was promised to his father as a price after conquering the last of the free lands. Once he did, he took the nymph on the beach, where the sand mixed with the salty water and her blood. When the boy was born, he was different from the others. One of his eyes was blue, like the sea of his mother's homeland, but the other one was black and blind. It was the eye that could only see the world of the dead and those who were lost. Some said it was meant to be his curse for what his father done to the nymph – the violence will always be punished by violence. The others claimed that it was the gift – to see dead, to observe them.

Then the boy fell in love with the girl that had died. He watched her for days, observed the way she tried to find her way out of the suffering. He loved her dearly and so he promised himself to give her the last gift – they met one night and the girl thanked him for the gift properly. He gave her his black eye before he fell asleep. The next morning he woke up and the girl was gone, alive and well. But he was tricked into living in the underworld for eternity – the girl paid with his life for her own. And the Death agreed. The boy was furious.

He cursed the girl, promised that she will never find rest until he'll earn back his freedom. Nine months later, the girl had twins – a boy and a girl. They both were born weak and sick and were left to die by her people. That's when the Death took them to their father as an act of mercy and the children were reborn. They both now carried the cursed blood in their veins – blood as black as the night. They returned for their mother and found her warming the bed of another. They killed her new children and a husband and dedicated their deaths to their father. However, he could no longer visit the world of the living except for that one day of the year that marked the moment when the justice was brought upon him. His children lived – had another children. Another boy and another girl – children of the black blood.

That was who Ren and Rey were – and their mother and uncle before them. They were children of the gods, cursed but powerful enough to be feared and yet respected. “Do you understand now?” asked him Poe then. “Their god is the god of this lands. Our god.” He looked at Phasma. “We helped you then, little bird. Now, I bet even our own god won't be able to save us.”

And it seemed that Poe was right all over again. The first thing they hear is the silence while the snow keeps falling down, covering their heads and their clothes. Poe's eyes are closed until they suddenly snap open. He sits up, breathing heavily. Phasma rushes towards him. She is shaking from cold but tries to ignore it.

“I've seen the sign of the raven,” Poe chants. “I saw you dead.”

“It was just a dream,” says Phasma sternly but Armitage can hear that even she is afraid. “Dreams have no power over those who are living.”

Poe nods but a silent tear rolls down his cheek. It freezes before it manages to get inside of his mouth. He wraps his arms around Phasma's bigger frame and keeps them there. Then, he turns to Armitage with a question in his dark eyes.

“Come here,” he commands and his voice turns rough again. “COME HERE!” Armitage flinches but does as he is told. He expects pain but none comes. Poe presses a dagger into his hands. It has a long silver blade.

“You know how to use this,” Poe firmly says. “Use it when the time comes. Don't hesitate. Make your choice, little bird.”

It reminds Armitage the day when Poe asked him: “Have you ever killed someone?” Armitage felt startled then. In some way, he killed more people than Poe did but he refused to say that aloud. Instead, he shook his head.

“I remember my first man,” Poe started. “He was fifteen. A bit older than I was. His mother was standing behind his back – it was just a simple game. But then he took out his knife and it would be foolish of me not to take out mine. It stabbed him seven times and then I cut his throat open. I took his knife. His mother wailed his name and then fell on her knees. She crawled towards her dead son, she cursed me and called me names. That cunt couldn't understand that he started it. It almost seemed like he wanted to die. But no one really wants that.” He smiled then. His eyes were glowing in the sunlight. “I killed her too, in the end. I had enough of her sobs. It was just one boy, you know. She could have thousands better than he was.”

“The son is his mother's pride,” Armitage said. “Take him away and mother will never forgive you.” He balled his hands into fists. It made him think of his mother.

“How about your mother?” Poe asked. “Mine was a weak thing – she kept crying all the time. My father used to love her. I did too, just as much as a son can love his mother. Then she died in childbed. My sister died with her. Father refused to give her a name. We have a certain tradition. Mothers never give their child a name before it's at least two weeks old. They want to have a child that survives.”

“We give the babies name in the beginning,” Armitage murmured. “And if the baby dies, then we never speak out their name. Never.” He looked at Poe sadly. “Dead does not belong to this world. And the living does not belong to theirs.”

“Why did he chose you?” Poe suddenly asked. “You are too soft, too gentle.”

“He had to,” Armitage said.

“You know he didn't,” Poe argued. “He could have you. But he didn't have to choose you. Your father's been doomed from the beginning. Making a whore of his son just added to his punishment.” Then he laughed. “No matter how Ren seemed – he is not a merciful man. He is a monster and if I were you, I would be terrified of the things he can do to anyone. And he will – he will break you piece by piece until there's left nothing, just an obedient little cocksucker.”

“I won't let him break me,” Armitage promised.

“It's not your choice to be made.” Poe suddenly sounded sad. “Ask gods for forgiveness – they are the only ones that can help you now.”

“What about Rey?”

Poe furrowed his eyebrows then. “What about her?” he asked too sharply and narrowed his eyes. Armitage leaned closer. He suddenly wished he could take out his knife and bury it to the hilt into Poe's chest. He imagined blood dripping out from the wound. He imagined him dying, all alone and helpless just like Armitage felt.

“Is she cruel?”

Poe started to laugh. “They all are,” he said but his eyes filled with tears. “That glorious Skywalker line. They all want the same you know. The chosen ones.”

“You loved her.”

“Aye,” Poe nodded. “I guess I did once. I don't love her any longer.”

Armitage cocked his head to the side, wondering. “It think you're lying to me,” he whispered and Poe angrily stood up. His face was red and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I did love her, little bird. She was the sun of my life. I thought she was different, you know. But when her god called her, she answered. I saw how many lives she took – she was bathing in the blood of her enemies, she took their children and burned their homes. A true soldier never fights for pleasure – we fight to survive. She lives for war, just like her brother. If she wanted to, she could eat the world raw. I loved her. And she left me.”

Poe grabbed Armitage and hauled him up. “How can you ever understand?” But there was no anger in those words, no hatred. Poe sounded defeated, lost like a child in the forest. “I became who I am now. I chose my own path.”

And where did it lead you? Armitage looks at the pair in front of him. He looks into Poe's watery eyes. Then, suddenly, Poe stands up and kisses Armitage forcefully on his lips. The younger male tries to fight him but he is not strong enough to defend himself. Phasma calls Poe's name but he doesn't listen to her. She mumbles something and then she leaves.

Armitage screams when Poe tears his clothes apart and bares his skin to the freezing air. He is turned around and pushed on his knees in the snow. Poe kisses his neck, bites his shoulders. There is something terrifying about him – about the way he tries to claim Armitage for his own. He looks like a feral animal.

“Stop it,” Armitage tries to push him away. The snow is melting under his hands. Instead of an answer, Poe pushes his head towards the ground and raises his hips higher. At least Ren had looked him in the eye when he fucked him. At least he wasn't treated like an animal.

“How does it feel like?” Poe growls. He doesn't use his fingers to open Armitage up. He spreads his legs, open his pants and pushes into Armitage in one quick movement. Then he grabs Armitage by his hair and starts moving. Armitage cries. He knows he is crying because he feels as tears roll down his cheeks. The blood starts to drip down his thighs and Poe's assault continues. It doesn't feel like lovemaking his mother used to talk about. “Lover will give you his body and his soul,” she used to say. The only thing Poe is giving to Armitage currently is pain and humiliation.

“STOP IT!” Armitage yells and pushes Poe aside. He turns around and curls into himself. “I hate you!” Armitage yells at him. Poe is heavily breathing. His pants are opened and his dick is sticking out. Armitage spits into his face in anger and Poe backhands him. He tries to roll Armitage over but this time is the younger male ready. He kicks Poe into his thigh and starts crawling forward. “You are just like him,” he says and for a moment it seems that Poe is snapped back to the reality. There is blood covering his hands.

“I am,” he growls and narrows his eyes. “I take whatever I want and whenever I want.” His cheeks flush red in rage. “Maybe this is our last night alive, little bird. They are coming. We all are going to die, one way or another. Make this memorable for me - I'd rather die with you impaled on my dick.” He reaches for him and that's when Armitage hears it. The voices.

He turns his head to the side just to see two rides that appear between the trees. Their faces are hidden by the masks. One is slightly smaller than the other but Armitage knows who they are. He tries to cover himself up. He is naked and shaking, his blood is tainting the snow. Tears are rolling down his cheeks. He can't remember the last time he's ever cried.

“What's the matter?” Poe sharply asks but Armitage can tell he is afraid as well. The taller of the riders speaks as first.

“We are looking for someone.” His head turns towards Armitage's kneeling form. “I think you know that.”

Poe frowns. “There is no one to be found,” he growls. “This is just me, my friend and my husband.”

“I can see only two of you.”

“My friend is in the forest.”

“She is not,” the shorter rider adds. He takes off his mask and reveals Rey's face. She remains unmoving. “She had a little accident while you two were playing. We took her – but don't worry. She has a role to play in this.” She looks at Poe. “Just like you and him.”

Poe pales. “You cunt,” he roars and is about to jump at her when she takes out her knife. She pitifully looks at him. “You haven't changed, have you?” she purrs. “Still just as pathetic as you were before all of this. You know you shouldn't touch things that aren't yours.” Then she addresses Armitage. “The last time I saw you, you looked much better. We warned you, winter is not a kind time. You meet people who want nothing more than to hurt you. My brother offered you his protection.” She jumps off her horse and comes closer. She kneels in front of him. “And you ran off like a coward. Kylo won't take kindly that someone else had their fill of his own toy.”

Armitage presses his legs together. He feels vulnerable. “I didn't fuck him,” he says and looks at Poe. “And I am not Ren's.”

“You are his husband,” Rey reminds him, not kindly. “You live just because he wishes that. I don't know what he sees in you. But trust me about one thing, summer prince, if you deceive him ever again, I will find you and my face will be the last face you'll ever see.” She pats his cheek as if he was a child. Poe is quietly observing her.

She glances down at his dick and smirks. “Use it while you can,” she murmurs sweetly. “My brother will cut it off once he finds out.” She takes off her coat and throws it at shaking Armitage in the snow. Then she sharply adds: “Get up or you'll get sick. My brother won't lose you again.” It sounds more like a threat than a promise.

For once Armitage listens to her. His knees are shaking and his body is hurting. The second rider hauls Poe up and binds his hands together. Rey leaves his dick hanging out with sharp words: “Let if freeze!” and then turns to Armitage. She helps him up on the horse and once he's sitting, she brushes his hair to the side.

“How?” he asks her weakly. “How have you found me?”

Rey laughs. “We asked our gods,” she answers. Armitage wonders if she is telling the truth or lying. The black dot between her eyebrows is now visible more than ever. He thinks of his dream, of the corpses and the frost and the snow. Poe is looking at him the entire time. There's still blood smeared around the corners of his lips - Armitage's blood. His dick is turning blue in the cold. Armitage wonders if it will be black by the time they reach Ren. A part of him hopes so – he hopes that Poe will lose everything for what he's done.


	7. VII.

Armitage tiredly blinks. The bright light burns his eyelids and his cheeks. He can feel as his skin flushes. The burn is lessened once he feels as the cold wind brushes the sides of his face. His eyes crack open once he hears the soft whisper of his name.

He can recognize his husband's face even from the distance. Ren's dark eyes roam his body as he is led closer. The crowd that gathered around them falls uncomfortably silent. Rey by his side tenses. She looks more like a child now, as she walks straight towards her brother. There is something in her that Armitage's never seen in Ren before. “Will he hurt me?” Armitage asks with hesitation and the snow melts under his bare feet.

Rey's hand brushes his side. There's no cruelty in her eyes as she answers. “My brother is a brute,” she whispers without any trace of shame. “But he won't raise his hand against his husband. He won't hurt you though you do deserve it.” Her fingers wrap around his wrist and squeeze it. _He_ _'s_ _already_ _hurt me,_ Armitage wants to spit into her face. _He hurt me and despite that, I will be the one who will suffer._

Ren's mother, Leia, is standing by his right side. His uncle is missing. Armitage feels as shivers run down his spine once he realizes that. He remembers seeing Luke on his wedding day, cutting the boy's throat. He's suddenly glad that Luke is not there, he finds the man more unsettling than the rest of Ren's family.

He jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder. Han Solo steps forward and looks at him. A small sad smile crosses his lips before he looks at his daughter. “Be brave, boy,” he says and pushes him forward until is Armitage standing in front of his husband. Ren is quiet for a moment. Only now it occurs to Hux that he's been waiting for Ren's verdict all along and that moment has finally come. He is shaking like a leaf in the wind and prays to any god he can remember now. He cannot tell which of them are gods of his people and which belongs to Poe and the Winter Folk, to Ren.

Ren doesn't slap him, doesn't hurt him. His palm rests against Armitage's cheek and he leads him closer until he's safely tucked in his arms. “Are you cold?” he asks in a soft whisper and Armitage realizes he's speaking in Armitage's own language just to comfort him. He lets out a silent sob and Ren looks at him alarmed.

“Has anyone hurt you?” he asks and makes Armitage looks at him. “If anyone dared to lay a hand on you, I'll make them pay dearly.”

He looks around, then at his sister as if he's asking her for her permission. Rey smirks. Her eyes are just a little bit brighter than her brother's. She is holding a knife in her small hand and bows her head when her brother looks at her. Armitage knows she loves him – he doesn't quite understand their bond but sometimes it almost looks like they are lovers, kept apart by only fate. It seems that in the eyes of their own people they are lesser than gods but more than humans.

“He's fine, brother,” Rey tells him. “Just a bit shaken but that's what winter does to strangers of our lands.” She pats Armitage's back in warning. “I didn't expect you survive for that long. I must admit, you are not just as weak as you appear to be.”

Armitage wants to spit into her face and laugh but he cannot move. Ren buries his fingers in his hair and kisses him on the forehead. His kiss burns like fire and brings only more tears into Armitage's eyes. They roll down his cheeks and inside of his mouth. They taste like the sea. They remind him of everything he's lost so far.

Ren closes his eyes and presses their foreheads together. “I was certain you were dead. My sister thought the same – we started losing out hope and then…” He pulls away and looks at Armitage, brushes his cheek with his cold fingers. “May the gods have mercy on us all!”

Then he glances behind Armitage and the crowd starts wildly screaming. A smirk spreads across Rey's lips and she leans closer and whispers something into Ren's ear all while watching Armitage's face. Her eyes are dark, hungry even. Armitage slowly turns around just in time to see as is Poe pushed to his knees. His dick is still hanging out his breeches but he doesn't seem to be ashamed. His eyes remind Armitage upcoming storm. He spits blood on the ground and glares at Ren.

Ren grits his teeth. A shadow crosses his face. One of his hands reaches behind his belt and touches the knife hiding there. Armitage can imagine him cutting Poe's throat – he can already see the blood falling on the ground and soaking through the layers of snow. And with every single drop of the blood, Ren's god grows hungrier and hungrier. Armitage can hear him roaring in the distance. He's hiding in the darkness of Ren's eyes.

“Old friend,” Poe calls to him. “I haven't seen you in a long time.”

“And now you've returned – to touch something that doesn't belong to you,” Ren says with distaste. “You had no right to force yourself on him.”

“You didn't force yourself on him?” Poe answers with a question. “Or was it a different situation? Ah, now I remember. He is your husband – you can be violent as much as you want.” His eyes stop on Armitage. “But I am just a man. Can you blame me? I bet that thousands of your warriors looked at him and wanted to fuck him. It's not a reason to spill blood.”

“Maybe they thought about fucking him,” Ren grits out. “But they didn't do it because they are loyal to me. Unlike you. You are loyal to no one – a man without honor. Tell me, how sad is to live away from the gods?”

Poe doesn't move. “What gods?” he smirks. “Yours? But Ren, what gods are those? They require payment in blood. But what are you paying for? Gods are great but humans are greater – they exist because you allow them to exist. There are no gods, just stories we made real. And now we feed those stories and make them immortal.”

Ren hums under his breath as he steps closer. “Are these going to be your last words?” he wonders. “Do you think you can provoke me so your own death will be quick?”

“That's all I can ask from a friend. The last mercy for the sake of the times that were. But if you don't want to be merciful but just, free me and I will leave without turning back. I can live without tasting your sweet husband if it's needed. But at least I will live. That's more than I can tell about you or him. I wonder which one of you dies first.”

Ren narrows his eyes. “I am not afraid of your threats,” he whispers and kneels down so he can look Poe right into the eye. “A dying man can bring me no harm.”

“But he can warn you.” Poe tugs his restraints and nods in Armitage's direction. “You have no idea who your husband truly is or what his people do. You think that Brendol Hux would willingly give you his son? You think that he is innocent as he looks like?” Madness fills Poe's eyes from inside but only Armitage knows that those lips don't belong to any fool. Ren's movements freeze.

“I know what kind of man Brendol Hux is,” Ren says with a finality hiding inside of his voice. “He takes and takes and then gives and gives. This was a way for him to spare himself and keep his title. And when I looked at his son, I knew I couldn't refuse.”

Armitage remains unmoving. He wishes for them all to be dead. Poe laughs sharply. “You are afraid of your god, that hungry bloody god with only one eye. The blood that runs through your veins is his own and when he calls you, you must answer. Tell him,” he turns to Armitage. “Tell him of your gods in return. Tell him what they do to men. Tell them what are they hungry for!”

Ren doesn't even look at him. Armitage can tell that he thinks nothing of Poe's babbling but when he looks at Rey, he sees growing suspicion inside of her eyes. She reaches for her knife and then looks at him. He knows she's thinking about slicing his throat, making his blood drip on the ground. She doesn't do it – not in front of her brother. Her mother sharply looks at her and tugs her forearm. Leia whispers something roughly and Rey shortly nods.

“It seems like my sister had her fun,” Ren mumbled and tugs at Poe's bared cock. His hands squeeze his head and stroke it a few times roughly. Then he tugs it back inside of Poe's breeches and the man groans. He arches his back and his eyes snap open once he realizes that Ren won't continue. Poe watches as Ren stands up and kicks him into his stomach. Poe screams and rolls on his side, curling into himself. Ren kicks him a few more times and then he stops. Armitage sees something feral inside of him, spreading across his body like a wildfire and he suddenly knows what Ren will want once they'll return into their shared rooms.

He balls his hands into fists and breathes in the cold air. The snow melts in his fiery red hair and he sticks out his tongue just to taste the snowflakes. He gulps when Ren reaches him and his husband's hand slides down and squeezes one of his buttocks. Armitage remains silent, unmoving like a statue. “You are mine,” Ren roughly reminds him and bits his neck. When he pulls away, Armitage can feel the pain that spreads through his entire body. He spots the blood on Ren's lower lip but he doesn't reach to clean it off.

Ren tugs him by his shoulder. He looks at Rey. “I want that man to suffer,” he commands and his lips are shaking as he speaks. “When the full moon comes, he will burn for his sins against our gods.” Rey looks at Poe and he screams again. It is over because Ren said so. Armitage pities the man that is now lying in the mud. He pities the man who saved his life and talked to him kindly, but he resents the man who tried to pull down his trousers and force himself on him.

He knows that when the time comes, he will gladly watch him burn and then cry for him in the deep of the night. “He needs to bath,” Ren says when his eyes slide back on Armitage. “He is dirty and he stinks.” His hands touch Armitage's hair. “We'll need to cut this off,” he murmurs for himself and Han steps forward. He taps his son's shoulder with his shaking hands and offers him a smile.

“I'll do it,” he says. He slowly leads Armitage back to his prison and draws him a bath. Then he helps the young man to get rid of his dirty clothes and pushes him into the water. Armitage hisses when his skin touches the cold water and he tries to shy away but Han's touch is strong, too strong for an old man.

“The cold water will clean you from inside out,” the old man explains to him. Then, after a short pause, he adds: “You'll need to be clean for my son tonight.”

“Rey said he won't hurt me as I am his husband,” Armitage says stubbornly.

Han openly laughs. “He won't hurt you – but he will take you, claim you again. My son is a good man but his temper often gets better of him. His actions often speak louder than words.”

“He doesn't love me.”

“No one marries for love,” Han says. “He maybe doesn't love you but he respects you. Love comes with time and that's something you didn't have.”

When Armitage's lips turn blue and he doesn't feel the cold anymore, Han helps him out from the bathtub and dries him off. “Don't ever run again,” he tells him with all seriousness. “He will forgive you only once. The next time you'll end like Poe – burned for our gods. His mercy is a gift and not many have a chance to experience it. You are his husband – learn what it means.”

Han leads him into the bedroom and pushes Armitage on the bed. He refuses to give him any clothes, claiming that Armitage won't need them. “Do your duty,” the old man reminds him. “Just like we all do ours.”

Armitage is left alone. He curls himself into a ball and when his husband comes, he quietly spreads his legs and lets Ren climb on him. It doesn't hurt – their hips start to move in a rhythm and Armitage gets lost in Ren's moans. Ren's kisses are full of vigor. He is pushing him into sheets and yet at the same time he is not trying to punish Armitage. There is desperation hidden in his movements. “Don't ever leave me,” he whispers before he comes and kisses the side of Armitage's neck. Then he pulls Armitage up and rolls him on his stomach. His cock is hard once more and this time Armitage buries his face in the pillows to muffle his moans and sobs and let Ren chase his pleasure. He isn't sure how much time passed since he's been bathed.

He and Ren and lying next to one another and their hands are touching. “He is going to die, right?” he asks Ren after a few long moments of silence. Ren frowns and his eyes snap open.

“Do you care for him?”

“I want him to suffer,” Armitage says instead. He sees a surprise in Ren's eyes. His husband reaches for him and gently cradles his cheek.

“I've never seen so much darkness in one person,” he whispers and kisses Armitage on his lips. “I am starting to think that Poe was right about you. There is something dangerous about your presence. Tell me, why are you really here?”

“I have to protect my family, my sister – and my people from you.”

Ren laughs. “You are a miserable liar,” he says. “Though I know you're not lying about your sister. You love her, don't you? I love my sister too. She can be handful sometimes but I would die for her and she would die for me.”

“She is angry with you,” Armitage whispers. “She thinks she owns you.”

“She does own me,” Ren sadly smiles. “There are things you don't understand about me but you will soon. Our connection is deeper than blood, my dear husband. Maybe I'll show you one day how close we truly are.” His eyes turn glassy. “Maybe then you'll tell me why you came here.” He props on his elbow and carefully examines Armitage. “In the beginning, I thought you were a daemon, sent to haunt me. I still believe you will be the end of me.”

“If you think I will kill you, then why keep me alive?” Armitage wonders and cocks his head to the side. It hurts him to move. Ren's attention makes him no good.

“Because I will know when you'll try to – and I will kill you first then and I will offer your body to my gods as a gift. But until that day comes, I intend to enjoy you.” Armitage sighs and ignores the shivers that run down his spine. He can feel tingling in the tips of his fingers. He rolls away from Ren. The sheets under his skin are cold.

“This is not a life,” he murmurs to no one in particular but himself. He knows that Ren can hear him. The dark-haired man reaches for him and his fingers brush Armitage's naked shoulder. He presses a kiss there, right above the bite that is now all bloody. Armitage knows that he's frowning.

“That's how it goes,” says Ren in the end. “This is the way of my people – my way. You can be here with me and I can give you the world. But some part of you will never be satisfied. It's hard to let go of the past. Kill it if you have to - that's the only way how to become what you're meant to be.”

“There is no future for such monsters as I am,” Armitage quietly says. “There is what was and what is right now. If I am to die, I will die as me not something you've made of me.” He laughs bitterly. “After all, just like everybody else, I was born to die.”

“What do you believe?” Ren asks him.

At that Armitage frowns. He rolls on his side to face his husband. Ren's eyes are dark in the shadows. He is chewing his lower lip. “What do you mean?” he asks instead of giving Ren an answer he's waiting for.

“I believe that after I die, my body will be buried under the ground for the Earth to find its peace with me. The body is all that remains, a rotting corpse covered by shreds of clothes, staring into nothingness. Dead feel no shame, no anger. They are thirsty creatures but they thirst for something they simply cannot have.” He touches Armitage's cheek. “One day, you won't be beautiful anymore. Your skin will turn black. Your teeth will fall out.” He brushes his lips. “There won't be any lips to be kissed. Or blue eyes staring back at me. Your hair will turn black. The fire will be gone. We were born from the mud and water and to mud and water we all shall return.” He pecks Armitage on his nose. “Your skin will decay. Your bones will turn to dust. All that remains is your soul.” He presses his finger against the side of Armitage's neck, looking for the sign of a pulse.

He smiles when he finds it. “And the souls are free forever to roam the land of the living. To see as the winter comes and goes. They are not cold anymore.”

“You make Death sound so beautiful,” Armitage admits. “You can make a living man hope for a soon death.” He furrows his eyebrows. “What if there is nothing though? No soul. No afterlife. No roaming the lands of the living.” He looks at Ren, looking for answers. “What if there's nothing?”

Ren is quiet for a moment. Then he says: “I pity you. It's pitiful to believe in nothing.” Then grabs the back of Armitage's neck and presses against him. His lips brush Armitage's ear. His breath is cold and freezing. Armitage groans and feels as pain spreads across his body.

“You're hurting me,” he mumbles but Ren ignores him.

“You have such beautiful eyes,” Ren says and a sad smile appears on his lips. “I told Rey I want you to keep them but she didn't listen to me. In past, when a wife ran away from her husband, she was punished in a terrible way. They cut off her feet so she wouldn't be able to run again.” Armitage tries to push Ren away. His hands are shaking. “I do not wish to be cruel to you.” Ren reaches with his free hand behind himself. Armitage screams when he sees as he raises a small knife into the air. “But you need to learn that you are mine.”


	8. VIII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there's a short scene describing the suicide attempt... if something like that triggers you, please do not read this chapter for your own safety.

He is forced out of the bed and his body is covered by rich smelling oils. Three old women surround him and touch his legs, his arms and his chest. Their fingers are crooked and old and yet warm against his cold skin. Later on, they wash away the blood from his cheeks all the while they pray.

“What are you praying for?” he asks when he stands naked in the cold air and the water is freezing in his hair. His knees are shaking like twigs. He keeps his hands hidden behind his back otherwise he would try to claw their faces. Take their eyes, he thinks. Make them blind. Make them see nothing and then let them ask for the forgiveness of their god. And he shall never receive them.

One of the women slaps him. She mumbles something in the old tongue, older than Ren's rumbling or Armitage's mother tongue. He wipes his head to the side and makes a low sound in the back of his throat. The other two answer at the same time. “For your life.” It sounds like a mercy. But it's not. They carefully wrap bandages around his head and Armitage keeps his screams to himself. If he could, he would burn the whole world now. Instead, all he can do is observe as his hands shake.

He is brought back to his room then, seated in the middle of the bed like an offering. Rey is already waiting for him. She is wearing a white dress like brides usually do. Her hands are white as snow, her fingers are long. She reminds him of Ren now – they have the same look in their eyes. Her hair is falling down and covering her shoulders.

“He did this to you.”

Armitage knows what she's talking about. She never points her finger. “You told him to.” It's not a question. It's a fact.

“Yes.” There's no shame in her eyes. Her lips aren't trembling. She is smiling even.

“Why?”

She comes closer. “You ran away.” She holds his chin. “You belong to us.” The kiss comes unexpectedly. Or maybe he's expected it a long time before she came to him. Her lips are soft. Rey lets him take control for a while. She lets him grasp her hips and force her to stand without moving. But there's something playful in her eyes. In the way she lets him do as he pleases.

Armitage's fingers wrap around her throat. “I could kill you right now,” he says. Just one snap and her body would fall on the ground. Just another corpse, he would say to Ren's face. Look at her, soon there won't be anything to look at.

Rey licks her lips. “You could,” she says in a whisper. “But you won't.” That's when he lets go of her. Armitage roars in agony and she jumps back just as he falls on the ground. Tears are rolling down his cheeks. He can see – but at the same time, he cannot. What is a man without one eye? Is he blind? Is he even alive? He is meant to die. They took his eye. One is to see the mortal world, the other for his soul to enter the world of the immortals. He's heard the stories before. About ghosts walking the Earth and the gods dining with them in their golden halls. He imagines tall white figures. Eyes staring back at him. He imagines the hole in his skull.

“If I could…” he gasps.

“Then what?” Rey barks like a dog and encircles him. Her eyes burn. “Would you be able to kill me? No,” she shakes her head and reaches between his legs just to feel if he's hard. He is not. “It is not the war that excites you. Nor victory. It's blood, isn't it? Don't make a mistake. You are a whore – sent to be fucked by my brother. I begged him to give you up but he refused me.”

“He's never refused you before.” He sees the change immediately. She presses her lips into the thin line and slaps him. His cheek burns but it's nothing compared to the pain of the knife slicing his meat into pieces.

Rey pushes him against the bed and opens his trousers. He doesn't even move, doesn't even fight her as she tugs off her dress and climbs at him. Her body is smaller than his, her ribs aren't poking underneath her skin. She is not soft like most women are. Just like Ren's body, hers is a weapon. She keeps moaning but she never closes her eyes. Armitage grabs her thighs and scratches her skin. He watches as the blood trickles down and soaks into the furs underneath him. His muscles tense when he comes but she doesn't stop moving as he empties inside of her. It leaves him empty. His thighs are wet from her fluids. Rey is smirking. For some reason, he thinks of his sister.

At last, Rey grabs his chin and forcefully kisses him. He finds himself missing Ren's kisses. It makes him cringe. What a sick creature he's become? There are bruises marking his skin in the shape of Ren's fingers. Rey is breathing slowly. She falls on his chest and kisses the side of his neck. It feels strangely comforting. The tips of her fingers are burning. Her hair tickles his bared skin. “Have you ever heard the story of the White Goddess and her twin brother? We call him Mhínyl, the Stillborn. They were born together, under the starry sky. Their mother died during the birth, Mhínyl was born without his heart. It was his sister who gave him half of hers, just enough for both of them to survive.”

“We never mention his name,” Armitage whispers. “Or hers for that matter. They are cursed.”

“They were in love.” It's just a soft whisper against his skin. Rey pushes herself up and looks at looks at Armitage. It's the look mother gives her son. She caresses his cheek with the tip of her finger. And kisses just the tip of his nose. This time she is gentle with him.

“Gods fucked each other for centuries – years and years before any of us was born. Brother fucked mother, father fucked daughter.” She hums. “But is it truly a sin?” She leans closer and kisses his cheeks. “I fucked you.”

“Will he ever forgive you?” He means Ren. Armitage wonders. Rey laughs as if he said something funny. She cocks her head to the side and her usually cold brown eyes fix on him.

“Do you really think so?” She slides off him and walks towards her dress. Her skin is illuminating in the pale sunlight. She looks like a child to him – barely grown up. Her hair is long, falling down and covering most of her back. She hides her skin under the thin cloth and turns to him to observe him. His sees his seed dripping down her thighs.

“How would he react if he knew my child was growing inside of you?” Armitage asks and his voice is hoarse. He sits up and hides his nakedness under the furs. They are warm under his touch. The air smells sweet, like ripe fruit and honey. And yet if he walked outside, there would be no sun, no women in a long dress dancing around their feet and hair golden in the morning light. He would see no sea, smell no salt. The wind would be harsh, brushing his face and making his cheek grow red. This is no home – the eye they took from him is a proof. He touches the place where was blood was covering his cheek and frowns.

He knows that Rey is watching. “There will never be any child of yours growing inside of me,” she growls like a feral animal and crosses the room to squeeze his neck. “This is not love.” She grabs his cock and squeezes it. “This is my point over yours. You belong to me, to him, to us. He and I are one and the same. If I chose to discard you, he'll do it because his love for me will always be greater than his love for you.”

Armitage bares his teeth. The winter taught him to bare his teeth. “He refused you once for me,” he says and ignores her touch. “He will do so once again.” This time, Rey snarls. For the first time, she doesn't look beautiful. Her face is pale, the shadows are spreading across her cheeks. If he didn't know there was blood inside of her veins, he would call her goddess of wrath. Her eyes look almost red.

“Rey.” It's that voice that stops the shadow from spreading and makes her let Armitage go. He gasps and falls against the sheets of the bed. The furs slip down and reveal his bony shoulders. Both Rey and Armitage look at Ren standing in the doorway.

He steps inside and closes the doors behind himself. Rey opens her mouth but doesn't say a word. “Sister,” he greets her and it sounds cold and distant as if he didn't want her there. Rey takes the hint and steps aside, far away from Armitage.

“He knows,” she tells Ren quietly and humbly. “If he doesn't, he will find out soon.” Ren crunches his nose and looks at his husband. There is a question mirroring inside of his eyes but he doesn't say anything out loud.

She walks out but Ren is no longer watching her. He comes closer to Armitage and stares at the hole in the place where his eye once has been. “I am sorry,” he says in the end as if he could possibly take back that he took Armitage's eye with the knife. Armitage doesn't remember much about that night except for the pain that spread across his body like a wildfire. In the end, he stopped fighting. Blood was soaking through the sheets and covering the side of Armitage's face. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. Ren was quietly whispering into his ear. Those were soothing words.

And then he said it. “I love you.” It made Armitage hold his breath. He couldn't move and he didn't want to. Ren was brushing his hair. Armitage imagined his bloodied body instead, his corpse lying next to him. I will kill you one day, he said at some point when the pain was too much and he believed that soon he will be dead. I will kill you for daring to love me. Ren laughed at that, bared his teeth and held Armitage's hand before slid back inside of his husband and joined their bodies together.

“You know why she came to me,” Armitage says quietly. His thighs are still wet. Ren narrows his eyes and laughs softly.

“Yes,” he nods. “I knew she would come sooner or later.”

“She thinks I belong to her.” To that Ren says nothing. He doesn't disagree. Armitage lets himself to be led outside and blinks. The light is sharp, the wind is cold. The snow under his feet melts. He watches the world around himself – the mountains in the distance, brown ground hidden under the snow, the people rushing around. No one pays them attention and for that is Armitage glad.

Ren's hand is grasping his hip. “You grew slenderer,” Ren says quietly. He doesn't seem to be bothered by the cold. “I can see your bones right under your skin.” He pokes Armitage's side and his finger manages to hit him just between his ribs. Armitage grits his teeth and bites his tongue until his mouth fills with blood. He swallows it down.

“I was hungry,” he admits shallowly. “When I was on the run.” He never tells Ren how he made himself eat snow just to quieten down his stomach. How he filled his mouth with ground and kept his jaw clenched so nothing would fall out.

Ren looks at him with that strange look mirroring inside of his eyes. “Sometimes when I looked at you, it's easy to forget that you weren't born in this land. Before, you knew nothing of a hunger that painful that mothers rather smother their children in their sleep so they won't suffer any longer. I saw your home, trees ripe with fruit and ocean warm under your fingertips. And your women, they wear light clothes and dance in the moonlight.”

Armitage remembers Ren only vaguely, dining in the halls of their castle. Sitting on the pillows of satin and drinking sweet wine. He didn't touch him at all, though Armitage could tell that he wanted to. But not in front of Armitage's father and his family. It would make Ren no good if he disgraced his bride before the official ceremony had a chance to take place. But he watched, he undressed Armitage with his eyes. He even called for him before he left, brushed the side of Armitage's cheek. “It's you,” he said. “Of all people living on the Earth, I am choosing you and the gods all agree.”

Armitage remembers how he went to his father that night. “Please,” he said. “I do not want to wed this man. I do not wish to be his whore.” Brendol slapped him harshly and Armitage fell on the hard floor of his father's rooms.

“You belong to me,” he reminded him unkindly. “You were made of my seed, the blood inside of your veins belongs to me. You were born to serve me, to serve your people and that's just what you'll do. If I have to hold your legs spread on the wedding night, then I will. If I have to force to submit, then I will do so. I would fuck you myself if it was required of me.”

Armitage's cheek was hurting and tears were rolling down his cheeks. “He is a brute,” he said. “And a monster.”

“He is also a powerful warrior.” Brendol came closer. “You will be safe and under his protection. Do not make him your enemy. Play coy, my boy. Spread your legs when he'll tell you to. Suck his cock when it's needed. If he's satisfied, he will not hurt you that much.”

Armitage thinks about what happened to his sister. Has Brendol wed her to some stranger too? He rather does not imagine that. He doesn't want her to cry. He doesn't want to know that she was begging her husband to stop. It's easier to pretend that she's happier somewhere, where the sun is warm against her skin and where her husband loves her as much as she loves him. Armitage quietly craves that too – soft touches, whispers in the dark. He imagines a different life for himself. With Ren coming home and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. With Ren being afraid to hurt him. In that different life, he still has two eyes. He knows nothing of pain and of suffering. In life like that is his father dead.

It would be too easy to escape again, Armitage thinks. Ren thinks he broke him. Tonight, he could take Ren's knife and sneak out. He could stand in the snow. This land is beautiful in the darkness when the gods hide human's sins by the night. The snow would be melting under the soles of his feet and he would be shaking all over his body. He discovered that he likes cold, despite that feeling he gets when he feels it on his bare skin. He loves cold and he hates it at the same time. He misses the sea, and the waves and beaches.

Ren once asked him about his homeland. “The grass is dancing in the wind and the sand is hot under your feet. The flowers are yellow and red and blue and golden. In our palace grew roses. I liked the red ones the most. They smelled sweet, they reminded me of my mother.”

“You mother?” Ren repeated. “You never talk about her.” His fingers brushed Armitage's collarbones. “I want to know more about her.”

It was an innocent request at that time. But Armitage wanted to keep his mother only to himself. He told Ren just a little. “She was beautiful and soft. And when Brendol killed her, the shadow fell on our lands. The birds stopped singing.”

“How did you she look like?”

It broke Armitage's heart. He closed his eyes and cried. “I don't know,” he said in a whisper. “I think of her often but I never see her face. I don't know how she looked like, or how her voice sounded. But I know she was the only thing I've ever wanted and blood of entire nations won't be enough for me. She is gone and I am left here with my worthless life.”

Ren didn't offer him any comfort. He didn't say anything. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Armitage could not see Ren's face in the darkness. He imagined someone else lying now next to him. It always made it easier.

“Who is Rey to you?”

“She is my sister. I will do anything for her. I've never loved anyone that much.” His hands settled on the inner side of Hux's thighs. “I think that if I lost her, I would burn the entire world down with all the people living in it.”

“The entire world?”

“Yes,” Ren nodded and tensed. “The entire world.” _Even you._ Armitage didn't expect anything less. He let Ren touch him in silence before he started to speak once again. He was sure he wouldn't be able to cry again. His tears were long dry.

“I hate you,” he mumbled into the darkness. “I have you so much. For what you did to me. For what you will do to me. I begged my father to help me. I told him I don't want to marry brute like you are. He refused me, he gave me to you without asking for my permission and you used me against my will. You raped me and abused me all the way.” Ren was silent. He knew it was the truth. His touches continued. Words could not harm him. “I went into my rooms that night. I took out a knife my mother gave me and then sat in front of the windows for hours. There were no stars in the sky. The air smelled sweet and I could hear the song of waves underneath the castle. The sea was calming down after the storm. I thought of my mother. I wondered if she suffered when she was dying. I imagined her blood, her voice, her screams.”

“Gods show no mercy with those who try to take something that doesn't belong to them.” Armitage was forced to laugh.

“I wasn't trying to get their approval. I wanted it all to end. So I pressed the knife against my skin. I cut my wrist open and I watched as the blood started to drip out from my veins. It started to soak through my sleeves and then quietly fell on the ground. It was red. I've never seen so much blood before. I felt like her before she died. They found me hours later when I was barely breathing. My father did everything he could to save my life.” Ren lifted Armitage's wrists and saw the silver scars marking his husband's skin. “And then he gave me to you.”

Yes. It would be too easy to escape Ren and go somewhere where even he cannot reach. Living cannot hurt the dead. He imagines blood dripping on the snow. Ren would wake up in the morning. He wouldn't be his husband anymore but a corpse lying in the snow for the birds to feast upon. Armitage wonders if he would be buried in his homeland or here, deep under the snow. His body would remain frozen for centuries to come. Maybe one day, Ren's children or the children of his children would be roaming this land and would find his body.

They wouldn't touch his skin, too afraid that his soul would enter into them and live there. No one dares to touch the dead. They would stare into his face. Armitage wonders if they would know that one he was Ren's husband. Or that memory might die with Ren when the time comes. Maybe the gods would make sure that no one remembers that bastard of the Summer People. Maybe by that time, there would be no Summer People anymore, just winter lands and snow and ice. People would not know anything of hot sand and endless beaches, of the sea calming down after the storm. Armitage knows that ghosts are easy to forget. His mother is maybe watching him right now and her heart hurts when she realizes that her own child doesn't remember much of her. All that left of his mother is a shadow living in the back of his mind.

When the night comes, Armitage sleeps. He doesn't sneak out to take his own life. He doesn't dream of his mother for the first time in years. He dreams of Rey instead and the black dot between her furrowed eyebrows. She is riding him and her small hands are scratching his chest. Ren is holding his legs. He is smiling at him like a hunter. His fingers caress Armitage's thighs. He wakes up suddenly, with Ren's hard member inside of him.

“You were whimpering my name,” his husband tells him. “And you were screaming Rey's.” Armitage lets Ren do as he pleases. He lies pliantly among the furs and watches Ren with his one eye. By the time Ren is finished with him, the sun is rising up. The horizon is colored in the shades of yellow, orange and red. He dresses up, without even bothering to clean himself. He finds Rey with come sliding down his thighs. She looks at him strangely with anger barely contained in her eyes.

“What have you done to me?” he asks her almost pleadingly.

She grabs his face and kisses him on the lips. Armitage doesn't move. He doesn't push her away but he doesn't return her affection either. She smirks when they part and steps back. She is tall and slim just like her brother. “You want me,” Rey says.

“Who are you?” he demands to know.

“I was chosen by gods,” she says and starts to walk away from him. “Just like my brother was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no idea how many chapters this story will have... I already decided on the end and in a way, it will be quiet surprising... or maybe not, depends. Haha, thank you for reading! Btw, sorry for my grammar...


	9. IX.

Poe's face is swollen and his lips are bleeding. He stares at Armitage and then smirks. “They made a monster out of you too,” he says. Armitage is quiet. He still cannot look into the mirror, in the fear of what he might see. They took away his eye and his face. He can still feel the cold blade pressed against his cheek and his husband's voice.

He kneels down and stares at the broken man. “You are going to die tonight,” he says and Poe shrugs. But what kind of man can be brave face to face with death? Armitage is sure that for a moment he sees fear inside of Poe's eyes but it disappears rather quickly.

“I know,” the prisoner tells him. “I've been waiting for it for ages. The death comes for us all.” Armitage wants to know his secret – why aren't you afraid? Or why are you trying to hide your fear? He's heard stories about what Ren does to people he deems guilty and for a moment thinks that taking away his eye was more merciful fate than the one which awaits Poe tonight. But then he remembers, cock buried deep inside of him and Poe's hands holding his hips in place when he tried to struggle. He remembers his warm breath. Maybe, just maybe, there is no mercy left inside of his bones. He is dangerous now. He knows how the real blood tastes like.

“The gods shall have no mercy.”

Poe laughs. “What gods are those?” he wonders out loud. “There is only your husband. Do you think he will fuck you in front of me just before he'll burn my flesh and then serve my bones to dogs? Maybe he'll claim you in the public as he did during the wedding night. We all heard the stories.” He cocks his head to the side and with cruel smirk adds: “Only a man who is ashamed of his spouse refuses his people to see their wedding night. We thought you were ugly little thing, simple too. And then we saw you. You looked like our gods reborn and we thought that maybe he wants you all for himself. I had you too, you know. And he'll die knowing that you were not just his.” Poe licks his lips. “I could have you right now if you came a bit closer. He cannot do anything worse to me than he already plans. I could fuck you all over again and again and send you to him full of my seed, dripping. He cannot hurt me, that husband of yours. Not even he can fight the Death.”

Armitage frowns. “You are sick,” he mumbles. “You could have made it.”

“Life should be about more than just surviving.” Poe's eyes grow gentle once more. “I saved you not because of your beauty. I saved you because I saw a terrified little boy who was forced into this life. I admit, my greed was my downfall. But when I spared your life, I knew you deserve much better than this. You were born to be bathed in the sunlight, with sea surrounding your legs and light clothes brushing your skin. But this is a land of blood and snow. There is no gold, no ocean. There is no beauty, only suffering. And you will never be free.”

It's true. Armitage finds himself missing his home. He misses the sea most of all. He misses beaches and the sunsets. He misses his little sister. “Have you ever loved anything in your life?” he asks Poe. He sounds like a child. “Have you ever loved something that much that you would give your life for it?” Armitage's eyes fill with tears.

“Yes,” Poe says quietly. “She died, you know. I see her everywhere I look. I see her in the moon and the stars. In the frozen ponds and lakes. I see her in you, sometimes. I know she would hate the man that became out of me. But I could not remain the same. I could not be the man she loved because she is not here anymore to love me.”

“Dead are never truly gone.” Armitage takes a deep breath. “No one is ever really gone.”

Poe sharply laughs and tears roll down his cheeks. “I sometimes forget how young you are. How innocent. They are not yours to touch or to dream about. You might see them but they are not of this world. And the longer you are separate, the less you remember them. It may happen, that they will not remember you once you die. And you'll be alone. Forever. Do you know how long it is, boy? Do you, my little bird?”

It's longer than Armitage can imagine. He feels as fear fills inside of his chest. He cannot imagine being without his sweet sister. _Anancy_. He will not see her in this life. He will not touch her cheeks and will not say her name and she will not smile at him. He hoped that the death will bring both of them peace.

Poe comes closer and his fingers wrap around Armitage's wrist. “Can you hear her in the dead of the night?” he asks. “You sister calling your name. I know a story about a brother and a sister, separated by a big sea. It's a sad story. He is looking for her and she is looking for him. But they never find each other. In any life. This or some another. Is it not the greatest tragedy? To know that someone is there, in that distance but you will never be able to see them again?”

“It happens often,” Armitage says dully. “Not all of us are lucky enough to live with people we love for the rest of our lives.”

Poe's eyes darken. “Why are you here?” he asks suddenly. “Why are you really here, my little bird?” I am not yours, Armitage wants to say. I belong to no one. But the hole in his head is a proof that he is lying to himself. He belongs now to someone. To a man with a knife. The man he is supposed to hate and on some days he does but on others, he wishes to never leave him.

“What does it mean,” Armitage lowers his voice, “that both Rey and Ren were chosen by gods?” He sees blood on their hands. The dreams haunt him. The snow melts inside of his mouth every night and Ren's seed covers his thighs. Rey's mouth tastes sweet. Like blood and war. Like fruit and honey. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she tugs his head to the side. Her lips kiss down his bared throat. She takes off her dress and Ren comes behind him. What is hers is his and the other way around.

Poe freezes. “You don't know, do you?” he wonders out loud. “My little bird, my boy. Have you ever heard those stories? Have ever had those dreams?”

“What dreams?”

“Of gods. And of monsters. They say that the gods look like humans. But they live forever. The death cannot touch them. You know this, your people had gods too. Cruel gods, younger than ours. Maybe the gods are always the same, maybe just we people give them different names. But the stories of gods are never changing. You heard all of them. You surely must know. Somewhere deep inside of you. The one-eyed god. And the brother and sister, one born dead and the other born alive. The goddess made of snow and blood, with hair made of stars. Do you truly not understand? Have not listened?”

“Listened to what?”

“The song of flowers,” Poe says like a madman and looks around. “Hold your breath and you'll hear the flowers singing your name. They are whispering.” He pulls Armitage forward and connects their lips together. It lasts only for a second, it's just a simple brush of their lips and suddenly Poe pulls away. He is crying.

“Let me be brave,” he whispers and pushes Armitage away. “Run boy!” he screams. “RUN!” He marches forward just Armitage rushes away and keeps screaming. “They are coming for you!” Armitage does not turn around to see his face. He does not remember the color of Poe's eyes or the sound of his voice. He doesn't want to remember at all – it would make him no good, to remember the man that is about to die. And yet he wonders if he'll see Poe tonight. Maybe his cold white fingers will touch Armitage's face. Maybe he will force himself on Armitage again. This time Ren would be unable to save him or to claim him. No one can fight against the dead. And then Armitage will ask. He will ask about Anancy. “Is she alive? Is she dead?” The dead know all the answers. But sometimes you need to pay them so they speak to you and reveal their secrets.

He finds Rey outside, practicing with her sword. Her brown hair is falling down on her shoulders. Her hands are bare but she doesn't mind the cold. Her eyes stop on him and she stops moving altogether. She presses her lips into a thin line. Armitage stares at the blade. There's blood in the snow. “You hurt yourself,” he says.

“It doesn't matter.” She seems to be glad that he found her. She keeps looking at the tears rolling down his cheeks. They are freezing in the chillness of the day. “Are you crying?” It sounds like she cares. Her voice shakes with worry.

“I want to go home.”

“You are home,” she claims stubbornly. But this is not his home, this is hers. Armitage kicks with the tip of his boot into the snow and screams before he falls on his knees. Tears are rolling inside of his mouth and he swallows them down.

“It's not,” he says like a child. “You know it's not.” He wants her to raise up her sword and drive it through his chest. She comes to him and kneels on the ground. She isn't shaking, unlike him. The snow falls on her hair and soaks through the thin layer of her clothes. She grabs him by his chin and makes him look at her. Her eyes are merciless again but he knows she means no harm to him.

“Don't be a fool,” she whispers. Then adds: “Please, don't cry.” She brushes away his tears and then brings him closer and lets him rest his chin atop her shoulder. His tears soak through her clothes and remain on her skin. Armitage wonders if she'll remember him some later when she'll be old and tired and no beauty will be left to her. He cries and silently prays to the wind. Do not forget me. Do not make a ghost of me. He presses his hand into the snow and stares at the handprint he leaves behind. When the summer comes, the snow will melt and the memory of his touch will fade. The thought that follows makes his stomach sink. Will I live long enough to see the flowers bloom? Will I hear them whispering in the wind?

“They are all gone, aren't they?” He does not dare to say her name out loud. His people used to believe that if you say the name of the dead person, they will come to hunt you. He does not wish to see his sister, all bloody and crying. He does not wish to hear her silent screams or to feel the touch of her dead cold fingers.

Rey kisses him atop his head. Her skin is warm, his is cold like ice. “I dreamt of you the night before you became my brother's husband,” she whispers. “The gods showed me your face. I was so sure that I've seen you somewhere before. Your eyes haunted me. Maybe he is just a ghost, I thought. But you are not a ghost. I don't know what are you. You bleed like a human. That's why you're still alive. This happened before. It has to happen again, it always does.”

Armitage blinks. Rey's hands are burning and she doesn't let him look into her face. He tries to push her away. “You had a different face the last time I saw you. But the eyes are the same. My brother changed too. He's not the man he used to be.”

Armitage starts trashing. “Let me go!” he screams. “You're hurting me.” That's what makes her snap. She lets him go and stares at him with wide eyes. Rey opens her mouth and whispers his name. She reaches for him but he flinches as if her touch burned. It burns. Her fingers left marks on his skin. He can smell smoke in the air.

He tries to stand up but a hand pushes him back into the snow. Leia is looming over him. Her eyes look tired. She glares at her daughter and then says: “Go find your brother,” and looks at Armitage. “Leave us alone.” Rey looks like a child when she stands up and without a word follows her mother's commands. Leia stares at the boy that tries to curl into himself.

“Rey is a good girl,” she says in the end. “She means well but sometimes she crosses the line. Some things should remain unspoken or there are consequences. She must learn that soon. She always forgets.” Leia motions him to stand up. Armitage follows her like compelled. She had to be beautiful when she was younger. There is something about her that even time cannot touch. She smiles but the smile never reaches her eyes. They remain empty, two endless pits that swallow him whole.

Leia leads him out of the village into the woods. The shadows make her look younger. Her long hair is flowing in the wind. She stops walking after a while. The pond in front of them is glittering in the sunlight. The ice is broken and Armitage can see the water underneath. He is not cold anymore. His limbs feel heavy. Leia pushes him in the direction of the hole in the ice and he doesn't understand until he finds himself falling. The water is cold. It chills him to the bone and soaks through the layers of his clothes. His eyes snap open but he cannot see a thing. The water steals away his breath. Everything is floating and he feels lonely.

At first, he wants to panic. He opens up his mouth to scream but the water finds its way inside and fills his lungs. Its weight is crushing. He can feel as his bones start breaking under the pressure of the mass pressing against him. Then he hears the first voice. His body is slowly falling down to the rock bottom. He recognizes the shape of stones underneath. The voices are whispering, slowly and deliberately and they are coming from all directions. Some are young, clearly belonging to the children. Others are much deeper. He sees the shapes under the water, white against the sand. His throat closes with his rising panic once he realizes that he's staring at bones. Thousands and thousands of bones, piling up and creating mountains.

Armitage sees figures coming closer to him. Little girls with floating hair and boys with blood forever covering their chests. The old men and women, young leaders in golden dresses. He sees shapes of the great walls now buried in the dirt, the places where once the golden palaces stood. He sees bodies, being eaten by fish, creatures that no longer look like humans. He touches the gold and the silver, holds it between his fingers while the dead whisper into his ear in the language he recognizes but dares not to speak aloud. He was meant to forget it a long time ago but he carries it deep inside his heart. The dead touch him, wish him good luck on his journey, tells him stories he will not remember once he'll step on the land of the living again.

Some of them bow to him, others touch the place where his eye once had been. _Thank you,_ they all say and tears start rolling down their pale soaked cheeks. _Thank you. Thank you. Thank you._ His heart stops when a little girl comes running towards him. Her small fingers wrap around his wrist and she smiles at him like his sister used to. But this cannot be his sister. Anancy's hair used to be brown and not dirty blonde and she was not this young back then when he left her. The little girl hugs him and Armitage stands frozen in place, unable to move. He finally reaches and brushes her hair and kisses her forehead and she looks at him with her empty eyes and smiles too, except there are no teeth inside of her mouth. They all fell out a long time ago and all is left of her is sand and dust. Even the fish that ate her remains are now long dead and eaten by other fish that were eaten by other fish.

_If you stay here you die,_ she tells him. Armitage doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to leave the bones. He knows what people say. If you find bones in the forest, listen to them. They tell stories centuries old. They live in peace, their voice will carry you to the safety. Run when you find bones near the sea for they do not speak stories but bring storms and hold memories of drowned sailors. They are the last warning you get before the sea claims you too.

He has no idea how he gets out. Armitage remembers looking at the dead and the ghosts and then he is no longer under water and his body is shaking. Leia is looking at with curiosity written all over her face and repeats his name until he answers. She touches his wet cheek. She reminds him of his mother. He didn't see her down there. Maybe she's never really existed. Maybe she is just another story his father used to tell to him. Leia tilts his head to the side and hums under her nose.

“You pity that man.”

It takes him a moment to understand that she is talking about Poe. He remembers what he saw under the water. There was a tall figure too. Her hair was dark black. She smiled at him sadly as if she knew what was going to happen tonight. “All men are good,” he says. “But then something happens, something breaks them.”

He knows exactly what breaks them. Leia smiles with a mysterious smile. “Love is a dangerous thing, my boy. My son doesn't understand it. But you do. You don't understand other things. That man has to die so you can live. It has to happen. It happened before.”

“No one can die more times than once.”

Again that smile. Leia shakes her head. “You know those stories,” she tells him. “They are real. And the gods are real too. You don't have to believe but you need to know. Some things happened, bad things. This is the last year. The blood will be spilled for the last time and we will rise anew.” She kisses both of his cheeks and his forehead. “One day, you will remember. Remember everything that happened. And you will know the names of those who survived and those who did not.” She brushes his hair and stares at its color as if she's never seen something like this before. “The god without life was given a sacrifice so he could breathe again.”

Armitage knows that story. The body of the sacrifice burned for three days and for three nights. The night that fell was long and people thought it will never end. The Moon stopped shining and the Sun didn't rise up. One of the twins was deadly silent, the other refused to show up until her brother would breathe once more. And then, after those three days and three night, the Sun rose up again and the Moon followed. And for the first time, the Sun had a beating heart.

“That's what will happen tonight?” he asks. “You are trying to bring back the god of the Sun?” Here people thought of the Sun and the Moon as siblings, but in Armitage's land, they were lovers. The Moon could not spare her love and was forced to watch as the Sun died. The found his body and the humans made a sacrifice. The blood of the god's flesh to give him back his life.

“It doesn't matter how you think of them,” Leia says. “Lover or brother, the love is the same. He cheated on the death and was severely punished for it.” Six hundred times to be born and die again and again until the debt is paid. Six for three nights and three days. “We think that gods are cruel but we are cruel too. They are like us. They just need to free themselves.” She looks up and stares at the sky. “The dead call to you. Do not trust them, no matter what they'll promise you.” Armitage nods but all he can think about is the little girl.

“The sea is beautiful,” Leia tells him. “But it's not kind. If you stay too long, you'll drown.”

“I wasn't drowning,” Armitage whispers. “I was home.”

She smiles. “The water remembers,” she says. “And the ice does not forgive.”


	10. X.

Armitage is staring at the dagger she's holding. “She was just thirteen years old,” he says. “She reminded me of my sister – she was small and shaking. Simply terrified. She had her reasons – I think that some part of her knew what was going to happen. I have no idea what her name was – maybe someone mentioned it but I didn't listen. It happened quickly. That morning my father came to me and told me that I am getting married. I found myself standing in front of that girl and I had no idea what was going to happen to me, to us for that matter. I remember that she smiled – was about to say something when the blade cut through the air. I remember how the blood started to spill. It was covering my face – my clothes. It was inside my mouth. And her body fell on the ground. No one caught her – she fell and no one even looked at her. Just a corpse, just another corpse. But I could not forget her. She was to be my wife – and before they killed her, before they lied to her and to me – I thought that maybe we could be happy. They told her mother that she went willingly. They told the people that she even smiled when the blade was cutting her throat open. But I knew that she was not smiling at some faceless god but she was smiling at me.” He looks at Rey. He is looking for any sign of understanding but he finds none. Rey is looking away – and her shoulders are shaking.

She is wearing trousers and her upper body is naked. The color is covering her chest and stomach, the lines of red encircle her breasts and her nipples. Her hair is cut short and most of it is now falling into her face. But he can see her glittering eyes and soon enough to land on him. There is a fire burning inside of them. She lifts her hand up and stares at the blade of her dagger.

“To die for gods is an honorable death,” she says. “The blood must be spilled in the end and the gods will reward those sacrificed to them.”

Armitage finds himself thinking of that girl. His sister could end up the same way – choking on her blood and falling lifelessly on the ground. He refuses to admit that Anancy could be just another corpse. “I see no honor in death,” he tells Rey. “A mother should never sacrifice her child – and gods should never demand blood.”

She laughs. “My love,” she tells him and Armitage shivers. “You are a soft man – honest and pure. You are the type of man I would go to war beside, not against. But you are wrong – this is not the world for merciful and forgiving. The gods have always demanded blood and it's our duty to pay them in it.” She comes closer and softly kisses him on his cheek. It's almost time and she can feel his building anxiety. On the other hand, she is calm. Today will come the end. Armitage pushes her away. Rey frowns but says nothing.

“I am not yours,” he tells her quietly. “I am his.”

Rey cups his cheek. “What is his is also mine,” she reminds him and thinks of her brother. Ren is surely waiting outside. Heat spreads across her body like wildfire and she looks at Armitage. She sees nothing but soft features and a hole in the place where his eye once had been. It was her who convinced Ren that his husband was in a need of punishment for running away. She didn't expect that it will make Armitage even more beautiful in Ren's eyes and for that sole reason, she hated the man standing in front of her. She admired how naïve he is – not even aware of her hatred towards him. His kisses are always sweet – but they are just press of pair of lips against another pair of lips. It is not love – and she cannot make him fall in love with her no matter how hard she tries. Armitage's heart belongs to someone else – and though he still doesn't know, Rey is aware that she will never be able to break the bond.

She brushes his hair, red like blood. Her eyes narrow when he tries to move away and walk out of the tent but she doesn't let him. “It's too soon,” she murmurs. “We still have time before we are expected.” And reaches down to cup him. Armitage frowns and seems like he wants to argue but she is already unzipping his pants. He is wearing a simple robe in white color. It makes him look younger. Rey knows that her brother chose that color himself. He likes to see his husband as something pure – untouched and unblemished. Surprising really, when she thinks about how many times Ren fucked this boy. Armitage is dripping with seed when she pulls down his pants. Rey smirks. She knows her brother well and these days Ren doesn't let Armitage out without a good round of fucking.

She opens her mouth to speak but Armitage grabs her hair. “Get on with it,” he growls and pushes her face towards his dick. His hands are trembling and his hands are holding her hair in an almost painful grasp but Rey thinks nothing of it. The bruises will fade – the wounds will heal. She has plenty of them – some from her brother and some from Armitage. She takes him into her mouth and starts sucking and licking, listening to the sounds of his muffled moans. Finally, he arches his back and shakes as he comes deep inside of her mouth. His hands brush her cheek when she stands up and she kisses him, pushing the come inside of his mouth too.

She pulls away and licks her lips. He looks destroyed – his hair is a mess. She wishes to keep him like this forever – but Rey knows she must never forget that Armitage is her enemy. There is only a place for two and Armitage is getting dangerously close to Ren. For the first time in her life, she feels something close to jealousy. Her brother and she were always meant to be together and knowledge that Armitage could be Ren's as Rey is makes her want to burn things to the ashes. Rey looks at her brother's husband and her eyes grow cold though he never notices it. She's seen his pretty face all bloody in her dreams. Rey remembers hurting him before – she never speaks of chopped limbs and broken bones. He doesn't remember it either. She feels pity – knowing that Armitage still doesn't understand. It was Ren's wish to leave him like this before his time will come.

That's just another one of Rey's miseries. She knows that tonight everything will end and the world will change forever. The snow will melt – and she won't wake up tomorrow as herself but as someone else. She is staring at Armitage's blushing face. She wants to memorize everything – everything from his flushed cheeks to his parted lips. She is sure that he will soon turn into memory – and her brother will forget him. Rey holds the dagger in her hand tighter. She is thinking and her hand is about to move –

And then Ren steps inside and ruins it for her once again. He says her name and moves to Armitage. His strong hands wrap around Armitage's middle and though the redhead says nothing, his cheeks turn even redder. Ren's focus is no longer split between his husband and his sister and Rey realizes with a sinking heart that Armitage has already won and it makes her furious. She is not used to losing her battles. Ren presses a kiss against the nape of Armitage's neck and his eyes are clearly saying that this will end tonight. He is beaming with happiness – and his eyes are bright and lips curled into a smile. He is obviously waiting for things to begin anew. He's been waiting for decades for this moment to come true. And even longer. Tonight, the last sacrifice will free him – and by tomorrow his life will have a new meaning. His heart aches inside of his chest when he thinks about the years of his suffering. Not even his sister can understand how it felt like to lose everything at once. He looks at her and finds her already staring. Her cheeks are pale and eyes burning. She is holding the knife close to her chest but he doesn't pay it attention at first. Instead, his hands return on Armitage's hips and his husband shifts. Armitage smells after the snow, which is unusual. He usually smells after the sea of his homeland – and after the sun and the salt.

“The traitor will die tonight,” Ren says in a low voice and feels satisfied. He tugs at Armitage's robe. “It's time,” he whispers. “Come.”

They step out of the tent with Rey trailing behind them. Ren thinks of this morning. She argued with him yet again after they fucked each other stupid. He loves her – but no more as a lover. His love for her is turning colder and even he sometimes fears the cruelty he punishes her with. Ren is sure that Rey understands him – his sister is his other half, his twin. He loved her at the beginning of the time when there was nothing and no one but the two of them.

The fires around them are burning. Poe Dameron is already tied to the tree in the middle of the village. His face looks wild in the darkness and his eyes are glittering with tears. He is smiling – almost. Ren pushes his husband towards his sister and slowly walks to Poe. The man smirks when he sees him approaching and his smirk soon dies on his lips.

“I knew you would come to me,” Dameron whispers softly. “You always come – to say goodbye before it begins all over again.” Ren shrugs.

“How many times?” he wonders, lost in thought. He doesn't hear what Poe says, he just looks at him and nods. Poe's face looks thin – and it's pale like snow. Blood is dripping from his nose.

“The worst thing about the death for me is that it never lasts for long,” he says. “It just repeats – over and over again and I feel like it will never stop. It hurts but each time it hurts less. I think that the day might come when I'll feel nothing, Ren.” He laughs then and bares his teeth like a wounded animal and waits for the fire. His bravery will burn just as quickly as will his flesh. At last, Poe Dameron turns his head in Ren's direction and asks: “How do you kill a god?” he wants to know. His bottom lip starts to shake and for the first time, Ren truly understands how desperate the man in front of him is.

“We are immortal. We are ageless. We will never die.” But he doesn't believe it. How do you kill a god? Take everything – the brightness of the sun, the love, the happiness. And what will happen then? It's not death, not quite. They will live on - ageless, immortal and caged in their immortality so soon they will wish for death – but it will never come and the never-ending life turns into a punishment. Or take their power – carve out their eyes so they will never be able to see and chop them into pieces – take their hands and feet and their mouth and ears. Leave them like that – never to speak and never to eat. Immortality is nothing if you cannot escape it. Millennium after millennium in the darkness. Make a shadow out of them – a distant memory. Take away what makes them gods and let them live.

“A god for god,” mumbles Poe mockingly. “Which one of gods will you sacrifice tonight?” he wonders and Ren cannot move. He hears the truth in Poe's words but he is not ready to admit it. “A god for god,” he repeats and is looking at the victim and Poe's look tells him everything he needs to know. He touches the bloodied man's face and stares at the dirt that remains on his fingertips. He feels a great swallow of pity.

“Don't,” Poe tells him.

“You've never believed in anything except yourself,” Ren tells him and his voice is rough once more. He must not forget Poe's crime and all the sinners must be punished. Desperate men quickly turn into monsters. He whispers a silent prayer to the night wind and takes a step away from Dameron. He tries to memorize his face, the way the corners of his lips lift up. And then he turns away, walks away and joins his sister and his husband. Ren's mother and father are there too – they are holding their hands and staring at the night sky. The darkness makes them seem younger.

Armitage next to Ren is trembling. He's changed – there is something rough inside of his face. Something that wasn't there before – something carved by winter itself. Ren remembers their wedding day. Isn't it poetic? The beginning and the end will be marked by blood.  Armitage is not crying – but he is praying in a silent whisper.

When Ren comes closer he stops and looks at his husband with that stubborn expression. One of his eyes is still missing. “To whom are you praying?”

“To my gods,” Armitage tells him. “You won't know their names.” As if he wanted to tell Ren that he still doesn't believe in Ren's gods. “May they be merciful.”

“Gods don't have mercy – that's why they're gods,” Ren reminds him. “Do you wish to pardon this man's sins? He tried to rape you – use you against your will. He hurt you.” Armitage says nothing but Ren sees the answer inside of his glittering eye.

_You hurt me too. And you get to live._

Yet it's not really mercy Armitage wants for this man. He pities Poe – he feels sorry for him but he will not beg Ren to stop. He begged him to save that nameless boy because he was innocent but he will not try to spare Poe's life. He sees no point in trying. Poe Dameron was meant to die and Armitage knows it, believes it.

He doesn't believe in many things – the gods are and they will always be. But he knows he cannot pray to them for help – Ren is right. Gods are not merciful and they will not help him. Even his own gods – no matter how much he wants to say it's a lie – require blood. His child bride was murdered right in front of his eyes in the name of his gods. A part of him doesn't want to witness the fire – he doesn't wish to see the last moment of the dying man. But another part of him – still hungry for blood and for justice – wants to hear Poe's screams and see as the fire eats his body. It won't last long – just a moment and maybe a bit more. The fire is painful but it's quick.

He looks at Poe and for a moment it seems that Poe can see him too. Their eyes meet and the dark-haired man smiles. It's such a soft smile that Armitage almost forgets that this man can be brutal too. He's learned his way a long time ago and he wonders if this is what the winter makes out of the people. Ren wraps his arms around his slimmer figure and brings him closer.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs against Armitage's cheek and Armitage looks at him. He sees stars in Ren's eyes. “Close your eyes – now.”

Armitage hears the first scream and when he turns his head back to Poe, he sees the flames surrounding his body. He is trashing in his restraints. His body seems to be growing – and Armitage sees a pair of eyes, golden-like staring at him. He gasps and wants to ask Ren what is happening. He wants to push Ren away and run as far as he can but his feet are unable to move. Ren's hands are holding him in place. His husband loudly sighs and presses a kiss against the crown of Armitage's hair. Armitage screams.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!”

Ren sizes him and Rey grabs him by his throat. “Move,” she commands him silently and Armitage screams once more but no one seems to be listening. No one rushes to help him. Ren and Rey are taking him back to his rooms. It takes just a few minutes and he stops trashing – he stops moving. Finally, when he's released, he falls on his knees and hears as the door locks behind him. Armitage wants to move on the other side of the room - or attempts to because Rey holds his hand in place. Armitage can see her eyes – they are bright just like Poe's were there outside.

“Rey,” Ren warns her and expects her to let Armitage go but Rey ignores him. She takes out her dagger and narrows her eyes. Her skin is burning.

“Rey,” Ren moves toward his sister but she's quicker. She presses the blade of the dagger against Armitage's throat and turns them around so they are facing Ren. Tears are rolling down her cheeks and when she speaks, her voice is trembling.

“I will not allow this,” she says and Ren stops. For the first time, he seems frightened. His eyes are glued to the tip of the blade. “I will not allow you to choose him over me! I am yours, Kylo. Do you understand? I am yours - we've been born together.”

Armitage kicks her. Rey growls and slaps him. “And then you came,” she yells. “You little slut. He wanted to give up everything for you – his little mortal lover. You are nothing – your life is just a fleeting shadow and yet we all had to suffer because of you. For you. I am his sister – his lover. I am his, do you hear me?”

Armitage shakes his head. “I don't understand,” he says once more and his eye lands back on Ren. He is silent begging for an explanation but Ren is silent.

“I love you,” Ren assures Rey quietly but she violently shakes her head.

“Not in the way you love him. I gave you everything, Kylo. He can give you only nothing – there is no peace for the two of you. Only suffering.”

“Or greatest happiness,” Ren whispers silently and takes a step toward them. “Sister – “

But Rey doesn't want to hear his excuses. “I was something before he appeared – we all were. Now we are less than humans. Less than gods. But we will be gods again – tonight. And he will be forgotten. He will die and his body will rot and you and I will stay forever. Don't you understand – this is just a fleeting feeling. You love his beauty – but he will grow old and ugly. His bones will shatter. But I will be still with you – here. You and I belong together!” she howls.

She doesn't look beautiful – her cheeks are wet and her face is swollen. She looks mad and Ren feels nothing of affection toward her. “Let him go,” he commands her once more and his voice turns cold. “If you hurt him – I will tear you apart with my bare hands,” he promises her and with fear stares at the man she's holding. The man who is about to die.

“Armitage,” Ren whispers as if he wanted to say that he's sorry. That this was never meant to end this way and Armitage opens his mouth to speak.

No words come out. Rey moves her hand – the blade cuts through the air just like it did when his child bride died in front of him and his body falls on the ground. The blood is covering the ground, spilling on the floor. His cheeks are pale, mouth open. His eye is empty – his heart stopped.

Ren wails but he doesn't cry. He stares at the man on the floor – then on his sister, now drenched in blood and silently sobbing. The dagger falls on the floor next to the unmoving corpse and the air smells after smoke and burned flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will be Epilogue...


	11. XI.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to ALL of you for reading this story and sticking with me for the last part!

He is listening to the sounds of her sobs. When it's all over, Rey is pressed against him. Her nails are clawing his skin and blood is dripping out of her opened mouth, mixing with black tears rolling down her eyes. There is nothing left of her beauty. “I love you,” she weeps and keeps pressing heated kisses against his skin. The snow is falling and the fire is burning in the distance. There is nothing left of Poe, just bones and ashes and yet Ren can still feel his presence. He pushes his sister away and looks down at the body lying in front of him.

“We are cruel creatures,” he says to Rey when she wraps her fingers around his wrist. His expression is serious but it softens a little when he looks at the corpse. “Is this what you get for loving a god?” Armitage's beauty even in death is breath-taking. He looks alive – like he will be awake in less than a few moments. But Ren knows that not even he is powerful enough to bring him back. Not even he can cheat over the Death. That's just not how it works. “That's how the god will be reborn – it comes with a prize. God for God. One era for another.” And then his expression hardens. “We are going to die.” Rey shakes her head – naively thinking that this is not ever. They've stood for thousands of years – they will stand for thousands more.

“We are gods – punished, maybe. But still gods. He was not one of our own – he was just yours and you abandoned him. Lie to yourself, brother. But you belong to me and I belong to you – we were born together and we will live together. Do you remember?” He cannot look at her. She is not the person Ren needs above anyone else. He falls into the snow and wonders how long it will take for the cold to come for him.

“I loved him,” he admits. He loved him so much that he acted out of selfishness and it cost Armitage his life. What is left now? Just a corpse and blood and thousands of bodies. Ren touches Armitage's red hair and feels tears stinging inside of his own eyes. Rey shakes her head as if she wanted to say that she won't allow this but it's not her choice.

“I wish you were dead,” Ren tells her and for the first time, he means it. “You took him away from me. You murmured him.” It's easier to blame others for his own sins. Ren stands up and the front of his trousers is completely soaked through. He moves toward his sister and grabs her arm. “He is dead and you live,” he spits out. “He is a fucking corpse and you live.”

“We will be gods,” she whispers and kisses him. Ren pushes her away. He suddenly feels disgusted. Maybe he's never truly loved her – maybe he was just used to her presence. He misses Armitage's warm skin, his bright eyes. There is nothing in this whole world that can ease this pain – not even his own immortality. It feels like he will never forget. There was never peace for any of them – only misery or the greatest happiness. He holds his sister's arm and he drags her towards the fire. Only after a few moments Rey realizes what he's planning to do and she starts to fight him but he holds her tightly. She is crying when he drags towards the heat flames and tangles his free hand in her long brown hair. He kisses her forehead and her cheeks. He refuses to kiss her on her mouth.

“We were born together,” she says. “We are meant to die together.” He ignores her pleading – but pities her in the bottom of his heart. Then he looks at her for the last time and pushes her into the flames. Her body is suddenly surrounded by heat. She opens her mouth and screams but the screaming doesn't last for long. She falls on her knees and then she is not his sister anymore. She is just fire and smoke and death. Ren sees her as she was before – beautiful and deadly. She is rising above the snow. Her form is bigger and bigger and then suddenly there is nothing – just the echo of her screams. Ren licks his lips and finds out that he is not crying. He only feels relief.

He returns back to Armitage's body and falls down on his knees. He kisses Armitage on his dead lips and touches the place where the blade cut through the skin of his throat. The snow underneath them is red. His hands are covered in Armitage's blood. He brings his palms closer to his mouth and licks them clean. It tastes sweet. The world is suddenly a lonely place. His sister is gone – Armitage is gone. He will never be a god again. So he lies down into the snow and hides his face in the crook of Armitage's slashed throat. Only now when he thinks about it, he understands that the tragedy is not to love a god - it's to be loved by a god in return. The corpse next to him is proof. The air smells after smoke. The fire is burning and the snow is glittering. He thinks of the boy he married – of the boy he destroyed. He remembers as Armitage told him about his homeland. About the burning sand and the salty air, about the sea raging in the distance. He thinks of Armitage's sister – wonders where she is now. She was just a little girl when he met her for the first time.

It starts to snow. The snowflakes are just as cold as his skin. He is the last of his kind. Ren almost laughs. “The gods were praised,” they say. That's a lie. Their own blood spilled down the temple steps. Their crowns were crushed. The humans grew sick of thunder and of the ocean.

How do you kill a god? The corpse next to him is quietly laughing. Armitage didn't just kill one god – he murdered all of them. Ren laughs too – and looks up at the sky. “The reign of the gods is finally coming to an end,” he says.

He does not deserve a soft epilogue after everything he's done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must say that I enjoyed writing this story very much! I am a bit disappointed with myself because I feel like a made a mistake and destroyed Armitage's character in the process but I hope I'll make better in the future. In fact, I had big plans for this story and wanted to write a sequel but I feel like it's a bit pointless now.

**Author's Note:**

> I used non-con warning because theoretically, Ren doesn't have Armitage's consent during the wedding night. So, for now, it's rated as non-con and rape.


End file.
